


Jeep Jockey Jumper

by San Antonio Rose (ramblin_rosie)



Series: Crossed Swords Alternate Multiverse [3]
Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Awards: The Papa Bear Awards, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Gen, Holocaust, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-10
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblin_rosie/pseuds/San%20Antonio%20Rose
Summary: When the experimental Jumper malfunctions, the Heroes receive more help unlooked-for. (Nominated for the 2011 Papa Bear Awards!)
Series: Crossed Swords Alternate Multiverse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008447
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. The Only Motel in the Combat Zone

The night of October 1, 1944, found the men of Stalag 13 hard at work in their tunnel system, preparing for what appeared to be another routine assignment. USAAF Sgt. Andrew Carter and RAF Cpl. Peter Newkirk had changed out of their uniforms into the black pants and turtlenecks they wore for night reconnaissance and were blacking their faces as they walked into the map room, where USAAF Col. Robert Hogan and ALA Cpl. Louis LeBeau were double-checking coordinates. 

“All set, sir,” Newkirk stated.

“Good,” Hogan replied without looking up. “Yeah, here it is, just off the Barnsdorf road, about two miles from here.”

“Any idea what it’s about, Colonel?” Carter asked.

Hogan shook his head. “No, all London said was to meet the courier and bring him into camp. He’ll probably brief us on the mission when he gets here.”

LeBeau looked at his watch. “It’s 2200 hours, _colonel_.”

Hogan checked his own watch and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

The four airmen made their way to the emergency tunnel, where USAAF Sgt. James “Kinch” Kinchloe had taken his station at the periscope, checking for patrols.

“How’s it look, Kinch?” Hogan asked.

“Somethin’ just landed in the brush a minute or two ago,” Kinch reported. “It’s about twenty feet from the tunnel entrance.”

“What sort of something?”

The black radio man turned away from the periscope. “I dunno. I can’t see it. It’s big, though.”

“It’s big, but you can’t see it?” LeBeau repeated.

“You mean the light’s bad?” Carter frowned.

“No,” said Kinch, “I mean I can’t see it. It’s invisible.”

The other men exchanged a glance.

Kinch turned back to the periscope. “Hold on, there’s somebody out there now-- _huh._ ”

Another shared glance. “Don’t tell me the hobbits are back,” Hogan said.

“No... but it’s almost as strange. Here, see for yourself.”

Kinch stepped aside, and Hogan looked through the periscope just in time to see a large goateed man with dreadlocks kneel down in front of the viewing can, look at it quizzically, and tap on the lens. The stranger then motioned to another man in black, and Hogan turned the periscope slightly--just enough to catch the American flag on the second man’s left sleeve as he moved into the light.

“Carter, get ’em down here fast,” Hogan ordered.

* * *

Late in 2009, after the Earth expedition to Atlantis had returned the flying city to its home in the Pegasus Galaxy, chief scientist Dr. Rodney McKay had finally decoded enough of Janus’ research to find that the Ancient scientist had left a copy of his time-travel data behind in his secret Atlantis lab. The International Oversight Agency promptly insisted that USAF Lt. Col. John Sheppard and his team bring the data and their experimental Puddle Jumper back to Area 51 to try to recreate the time-travel drive; the Jumper recovered from Arkhan’s planet had narrowly escaped destruction in the Wraith attack on Earth earlier that year, and the IOA was loath to risk losing the technology to another attacker. McKay sent the data ahead to Dr. Bill Lee, Stargate Command’s chief scientist, and gave him a month to make the drive before the team, accompanied by Drs. Radek Zelenka and Carson Beckett, returned to install and test it. Physicist Zelenka came along as the resident Jumper expert, and physician Beckett came “in case anything goes wrong”--chief medical officer Jennifer Keller’s words, not his, spoken before something _else_ went wrong in Atlantis and expedition commander Richard Woolsey refused to release her from duty while she still had patients.

The team soon discovered that they should have either given Dr. Lee two months or called in McKay’s sister Jeannie, one of only two women who were smarter than the smartest man in two galaxies.

The drive was waiting for them when they arrived, but Lee admitted they hadn’t finished running simulations on it yet. But the IOA representatives were insistent, and for once neither McKay nor Sheppard was willing to put up with their whining. As soon as Lee and Zelenka got the drive installed, the Lanteans took the Jumper on a test flight.

Somehow the drive malfunctioned and took navigation with it. Sheppard lost count of how many times they jumped before he was finally able to bring the ship under control and cloak it. Once he did, he attempted to find a likely spot to land, a tricky proposition in a wooded area at night. He made it, though, and everyone aboard breathed a sigh of relief.

“Rodney?” Sheppard asked.

“I don’t know,” McKay replied, prodding his tablet PC.

“You don’t know _what_?” prompted Ronon Dex.

“ _Anything_ he might ask about,” the Canadian clarified. “Where we are, when we are, how long it’ll take to fix the Jumper, anything.”

“Perhaps we should try to find other shelter for the night,” Teyla Emmagan suggested.

Zelenka looked up from his own laptop at that, then came forward as a searchlight swept across the windshield. “That looks like a prison camp,” the Czech stated, pointing.

“Yeah,” Sheppard agreed. “Probably no houses around for miles.” He mentally pulled up the Jumper’s Heads-Up Display to confirm his conjecture. There were numerous life signs in the camp and a few scattered outside that appeared to be guards and dogs, but no others were visible inside a three-mile radius.

“D’ya mind?!” McKay groused.

“Rodney, it will take several hours to go through that data, even if we work together,” Zelenka replied. “Right now we have no way of knowing whether the cloak has been affected. And we didn’t bring any food.”

Sheppard frowned and shifted the HUD’s display to elevation. “That’s odd.”

“What?” McKay and Zelenka chorused.

“Look.” Sheppard pointed to a number of life signs below ground level throughout the camp.

“Escape tunnels?” Beckett wondered.

“Like in _The Great Escape_?” Ronon frowned. Both he and Teyla, being Pegasus natives, had little context for Earth history apart from the movies they watched with Sheppard and McKay.

“Aye, could be,” nodded the Scot.

“Could be... but what are the odds....” Sheppard left his sentence unfinished as he ran a hand through his unruly hair and stared at the camp thoughtfully.

“Colonel?” Zelenka prodded.

“Patches on, everybody,” Sheppard ordered abruptly, taking the Velcro-backed identifying shoulder patches out of his pocket and mentally thanking Woolsey for insisting they break protocol and have the patches handy in case of emergency. When the career bureaucrat broke the rules, Sheppard knew it was for a good reason. “Ronon, you take McKay’s jacket; Teyla, you take my spare flag. I don’t want to risk us being shot as spies if we’re captured.”

“What’s the plan?” McKay asked, following suit.

“We’re gonna make a break for the tunnel.”

The others slapped on their flags and expedition patches, gathered their gear, and followed Sheppard out of the Jumper. No sooner had they hidden themselves from another searchlight sweep than Ronon spotted something that looked like a soup can on a pipe poking out of a clump of bracken. When the light passed, he hurried over to it, tapped on the glass front of the can, and motioned Sheppard over to him. The thing moved as if looking at Sheppard.

“Looks like a periscope,” Sheppard whispered. The thing disappeared into the bracken.

“A what?” Ronon frowned.

“It’s a device for seeing above a barrier.”

Just then the top of a tree stump flipped open and a man’s head popped out. “Hey! Over here!” the man--an American--stage-whispered.

Team Sheppard hurried toward the stump. “Is this Stalag 13?” Sheppard whispered back.

“Sure is,” came the reply. “C’mon down.”

Sheppard sent Beckett down the ladder first, then McKay, Zelenka, Teyla, and Ronon, and finally followed himself. As the trap door closed over him, he heard a guard’s footsteps approaching.

“Hi,” said a vaguely familiar voice when Sheppard reached the bottom of the ladder. “Welcome to Stalag 13.”

Sheppard turned and saluted the man he knew as General Robert Hogan. “Sir. Lt. Col. John Sheppard, United States Air Force.” Hogan returned the salute and shook his hand, and Sheppard gestured to his companions as he introduced them. “Dr. Rodney McKay, Dr. Radek Zelenka, Dr. Carson Beckett, Ronon Dex, and Teyla Emmagan. Sorry to drop in on you like this, but we had to make an emergency landing outside the camp, and we need a place to stay until we can get her fixed.”

“Of course,” Hogan nodded.

“I’m glad _someone_ knows where we are,” McKay grumbled. Ronon swatted his arm.

“Our navigation went out,” Sheppard explained.

“Maybe we can help you fix it,” Hogan offered. “But in the meantime, you’re welcome to stay here. It’s humble, but it is home.”

“I’m afraid our craft is experimental and highly classified,” Teyla replied in her most diplomatic and apologetic tone.

“These guys do have pretty high clearance,” Sheppard told her.

“What, you think they _can_ help us?” McKay asked snidely. “I seriously doubt they have the technology--I mean, look at this place!”

“Rodney,” Beckett and Zelenka cautioned at the same time Ronon rumbled, “McKay....”

“I’m just sayin’ that the classification isn’t the problem here,” Sheppard returned.

“Neither is the fact that only one of you seems to know you’ve landed in the middle of World War II,” Kinch observed.

He received three incredulous stares, two confused frowns, and one look of mingled gratitude and curiosity.

“Look, four months ago we had an elf, a dwarf, a wizard, two knights, and four hobbits in this tunnel,” Hogan stated. “Alternate realities are nothing new to us.”

“ _Hobbits?!_ ” McKay’s eyes threatened to pop out of his head until Ronon smacked him again. “Ow! Would you stop that?”

Sheppard ignored his chief scientist. “Nothing as elaborate as that in this case, sir. The Puddle Jumper’s fitted with a time travel device. That’s what went out first.”

“That would explain the uniforms,” LeBeau nodded.

“You’re never Canadian,” Newkirk said to Ronon.

“Might be,” Ronon shrugged. “You haven’t asked what year we’re from.”

“Might as well ask what _planet_ you’re from,” Carter remarked, finally taking his eyes off Ronon’s dreadlocks to glance at his watch.

“Sateda,” came Ronon’s honest answer.

Now it was McKay’s turn to smack Ronon.

“What?” Ronon frowned down at his teammate.

“All right, all right, fellas, knock it off,” Hogan said. “We can catch up on details later. Sounds like that invisible plane isn’t going anywhere for a while.”

McKay chuckled at that. “Makes us sound like Wonder Woman.”

“It may not be invisible much longer, Colonel,” Zelenka said. “The cloaking device may well have been damaged.”

“Sir?” Carter interrupted. “We’re supposed to meet that courier in fifteen minutes.”

“Right, and it’s a two-mile walk,” added Newkirk. “We’d best get cracking.”

The Lanteans exchanged a look.

“Something wrong?” Hogan asked.

Sheppard took a deep breath and let it out again. “Sir, there’s nobody out there but guards.”

The five prisoners frowned. “What do you mean?” Hogan pressed.

Sheppard looked at McKay and nodded.

“When we landed, we used the Jumper’s sensors to try to locate a place to spend the night,” McKay explained. “Apart from the guards and the people here in camp, there are no life signs within three miles.”

“Are you _sure_?!” LeBeau demanded.

At another nod from Sheppard, McKay pulled up the sensor readings on his tablet and handed it to Hogan. The other prisoners crowded around to compare the data with the map. Newkirk broke the stunned silence with a curse.

“What do we do now, Colonel?” Carter asked.

“I dunno,” Hogan replied.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Kinch went back to the periscope.

“Sir, like Zelenka said, we don’t know how long the Jumper’s cloak is going to hold,” Sheppard said. “We need some way to make sure the Germans don’t get their hands on it.”

Hogan shrugged. “We can take it apart, bring it down in the tunnel.”

Zelenka let out a short laugh.

“That’s going to be a little difficult,” McKay agreed.

“Not only that, we’re out of time,” Kinch called. “Langenscheidt’s dog just picked up your scent. He’s keeping away from the tunnel entrance, but he could lead Langenscheidt right to your plane.”

Hogan looked at the Lanteans. “How’s your German?”

Sheppard, McKay, and Zelenka shrugged. “Okay....” “Tolerable.” “ _Ausgezeichnet_.”

Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon just looked at each other in confusion.

Hogan turned to Newkirk and LeBeau. “Luftwaffe, defector, collaborator,” he said, pointing to Sheppard, McKay, and Zelenka in turn.

“Right,” Newkirk nodded. “This way, gentlemen.” And he and LeBeau herded the three newcomers into the costume room.

“Carter, get that tent we used for the _Valkyrie_ ,” Hogan continued.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re gonna cover it with a tent?” Ronon frowned.

“For now,” Hogan nodded. “And tomorrow we’ll have the _Krauts_ bring it into camp.”

* * *

Cpl. Langenscheidt could not for the life of him figure out what Wolfgang was up to. He wished there were snow on the ground so he could see any tracks in the area the dog kept sniffing. As it was, the night blindness that had relegated him to life as a _Luftstalag_ guard rendered whatever it was well nigh invisible, and going in circles left him dizzy and disoriented. A couple of times he thought he caught a brief glimpse of a crazy-looking Quonset hut, and once he felt like he’d almost run into something when there wasn’t even a tree in front of him! But Wolfgang was not a dog to chase red herrings, and Langenscheidt was afraid of what Col. Klink might say if he pulled Wolfgang off the trail only to find out too late that a prisoner had escaped.

Wolfgang was snuffling in the brush and Langenscheidt had just put a gloved hand to his aching head when he suddenly heard something behind him.

“No, _trust_ me, we’re not going _anywhere_ tonight,” said an American-sounding male voice.

“Well, we’re as safe here as we would be back at the base,” replied a Czech. “The Allies would never bomb a POW camp.”

Guard and dog turned in unison to see a Luftwaffe officer and two civilians coming up to them. Langenscheidt snapped to attention and saluted. “ _Guten Abend, Herr Oberst_.”

“Good evening, Corporal,” said the officer in German, returning the salute. “I am Oberstleutnant Johann Schäfer, Luftwaffe Intelligence, and this is Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka. We were testing a new experimental aircraft this evening but were forced to make an emergency landing outside the camp here. I need to arrange security for our craft until it can be repaired. Bring me the sergeant of the guard at once.”

“ _Jawohl, Herr Oberst_.” Langenscheidt saluted again and hurried away, Wolfgang bounding alongside. He just missed the cloak fritzing again.

As soon as Langenscheidt left, the tree stump opened again, and Carter bundled the tent out with McKay and Zelenka’s help. The other members of both teams followed in short order, and between them they managed to get the tent up in record time. Sheppard and Ronon made sure to anchor one corner among the tree stumps so that the tunnel entrance was hidden by the tent. Hogan had just given the three disguised Lanteans a thumbs-up and disappeared back into the tunnel when the cloak failed completely. Seconds later they heard Langenscheidt calling to Sheppard.

“You guys ready?” Sheppard asked softly. 

McKay and Zelenka nodded, and all three of them stepped out of the tent to find Langenscheidt leading two figures toward them, not one.

“I apologize for the delay, _Herr Oberst_ ,” Langenscheidt said, saluting. “Sgt. Schultz wanted Kommandant Klink to come with us.”

“Thank you, Corporal. Colonel, Sergeant.” Sheppard, Klink, and Schultz exchanged salutes. “Oberstleutnant Johann Schäfer, Luftwaffe Intelligence. My associates, Dr. McKay, Dr. Zelenka.”

“Welcome to Stalag 13, gentlemen,” Klink replied. “I understand you have some trouble with your airplane?”

Zelenka, whose German was strongest, spoke up. “Yes, Colonel. The navigational system has gone out, along with several of the experimental systems we have been testing. We have not yet assessed the extent of the damage; I am afraid it will be several days before we can get it flying again.”

“I see. I should be happy to call a truck to transport your plane back to your base....”

“That is out of the question, Colonel,” Zelenka interrupted. “Even the shape of the craft is highly classified. It cannot be moved, not even into the camp.”

“What is so different about the shape?” Schultz frowned.

“Schultz!” barked Klink.

“We know Stalag 13’s record of safety and efficiency,” Sheppard stated smoothly. “Had we any other choice, we would not have disturbed your excellent security routine. But Dr. Zelenka is correct; we must leave the _Pfützespringer_ where it is until we can repair it.”

“ _Pfützespringer_?” Klink repeated, confused. “Oh... oh, of course. Well, gentlemen, I am afraid our VIP quarters will be needed for another guest the day after tomorrow, but you are welcome to stay in my quarters until your plane is repaired. Schultz, please show our visitors to my quarters. Langenscheidt, you will remain on guard here until I assign someone to relieve you, then return to your patrol.”

“ _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_ ,” Langenscheidt and Schultz chorused.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Sheppard nodded.

“And, ah, I do hope you’ll mention my name in your report?” Klink asked with obviously feigned humility.

“Of course,” Sheppard deadpanned.

“Thank you! Good night, gentlemen.” Klink turned and hurried away to his office.

“This way, gentlemen, if you please,” Schultz said genially and led the Lanteans around to the front gate and thence to Klink’s quarters. Sheppard’s peripheral vision just caught another soup-can periscope poking out of a rain barrel in front of one of the barracks, and he deliberately looked away from it.

Schultz gave the three men a quick tour of the quarters and informed them that he would be on guard outside if they needed him.

“Just see that we’re not disturbed,” Sheppard stated.

“ _Jawohl, Herr Oberst_. _Guten Abend_.” And Schultz left.

McKay waited three seconds after the door closed before turning to Sheppard. “ _Pfützespringer_?!”

“Hey, _Torschiff_ sounds just as stupid as Gateship.”

“And not as a very good code name,” Zelenka agreed.

“You do have a point there,” McKay conceded. “So, who gets the bedroom?”

“You do,” Sheppard and Zelenka said at the same time.

McKay was stunned. “I do? Really? Why?”

“You’ve got the bad back _and_ you snore,” Sheppard remarked dryly. “I’ll fight Zelenka for the couch.”

Zelenka poked at the couch and grimaced. “I think I would prefer the floor.”

McKay started to object that he did not in fact snore, but he realized that he really shouldn’t complain about getting the only bed and a private room. “Right. I, um... guess I’ll go get settled.”

“And I... will raid the fridge, ’cause I’m hungry and you probably need to eat, too,” said Sheppard, tossing his cap and coat onto the couch.

* * *

Kinch was first down the ladder into the tunnel, and no sooner did he reach the bottom than the radio began to beep. He ran to the radio room and tapped a quick acknowledgement. The others followed him and exchanged worried looks when Kinch’s face grew even more serious as he wrote. Kinch then shut off the radio and handed the clipboard to Hogan.

“‘Pass intercepted, player ejected,’” Hogan read with a frown. “‘Will attempt new play as soon as possible. Do not acknowledge--maintain radio silence effective immediately. Coach.’ Our courier must have been caught by the Gestapo.”

“How do you figure that, sir?” Carter asked.

“Radio silence means they think there’s a radio detector unit in the area,” Kinch answered. “And a radio detector means Gestapo.”

“Do you think they’ll send someone without sending a radio message first?” LeBeau wondered.

“It’s possible,” Hogan nodded. “But that limits their options to people we know or agents already in the Wehrmacht.” He sighed and set down the clipboard. “Guess we’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

“How can we help?” Ronon asked.

“We’d be happy to make oursel’s useful,” Beckett added.

“I appreciate it,” Hogan replied with a shake of his head, “but until we get that message from London, we won’t know what we might need you guys to do. In the meantime, you can just relax down here while we figure out how to fix your plane.”

Just then USAAF Sgt. Olsen poked his head over the edge of the bunk frame and called down to the radio room, “Colonel! Schultz just brought a Luftwaffe officer and two civilians into camp!”

“We know, they’re on our side,” Hogan called back. “Where are they?”

“Klink’s quarters.”

“Thanks, Olsen.” Hogan turned to his other guests. “We’re in luck. We have a tunnel entrance in Klink’s living room.”

“Dr. McKay will likely not be able to sleep tonight if we do not bring him his computer,” Teyla observed.

“Might not be able to sleep if we do,” Ronon countered.

“Aye, but at least he’ll not bother the others if he has his data,” Beckett returned, picking up Zelenka’s pack and handing McKay’s to Teyla. “Colonel, could you show us how to get there?”

“Sure,” Hogan nodded. “Come with me.”

Ronon turned just in time to catch LeBeau and Newkirk watching Teyla’s departing figure appreciatively. Both men quickly found themselves on the receiving end of one of the Satedan’s patented big-brother glares and smiled nervously.

Kinch cleared his throat. “So... Ronon, is it?”

Ronon looked at Kinch and quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Have you eaten dinner? LeBeau here’s an excellent chef; I’m sure he’d be glad to fix something for you.”

Ronon shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

Grateful for the out, LeBeau scurried up the ladder without another word.

“I’d better go and ’elp ’im--wash the dishes and whatnot,” Newkirk said by way of excuse and followed LeBeau as quickly as possible.

Ronon snorted and relaxed a fraction. Kinch managed not to sigh in relief.

“Hey, you want me to show you where you’re gonna sleep?” Carter asked. “We can find a separate room for Teyla if she’d rather.”

The corner of Ronon’s mouth quirked upward. “Sounds good.” He scooped up her pack and Beckett’s. “Lead on.”

* * *

McKay and Zelenka had just begun sparring over the merits of rye bread vs. wheat bread when Sheppard suddenly noticed the wood-burning stove across the room turning. His hand flew instinctively to his Luger, but the cover stopped him long enough for the top of Hogan’s hat to appear out of the hole in the floor. Sheppard blew the air out of his cheeks and leaned back in his chair.

“Hi,” Hogan said as he climbed into the room.

“Your tunnel leads _here_?” Zelenka frowned.

“Has its uses,” Hogan replied, turning around to take McKay’s pack from Teyla.

“They work with the Underground,” Sheppard explained.

McKay set down his sandwich. “Is that....”

“That one’s yours, Rodney,” Teyla called up to him.

McKay hurried to take his pack from Hogan, and Sheppard and Zelenka followed. “I’m wishing now I’d brought a change of socks,” Sheppard joked.

“Oh, you can borrow a pair of mine,” McKay said absently, digging for his tablet. Then remembering himself, he looked from Sheppard to Hogan to Teyla. “Oh, uh... thanks.”

“Hey.” Sheppard touched McKay’s arm as the physicist found his tablet. “Finish your sandwich.”

“Oh, right. I’ll just, um....” McKay set his pack beside the couch and took the tablet back to the table with him.

“Radek, here is yours,” Teyla said as Beckett handed up his burden.

“Thank you,” Zelenka nodded.

“I’ll brief the men tonight,” Hogan told Sheppard. “We’ll talk Klink into bringing your plane into camp tomorrow.”

“Can’t let the Krauts get that close, sir,” Sheppard replied.

“It’s _that_ classified?”

“It’s that classified. Sorry we’re blocking the tunnel.”

“That’s all right--sounds like the courier we were supposed to meet got picked up by the Gestapo, so we shouldn’t use it anyway.”

“Klink said something about another guest needing the VIP quarters day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, great. Just what we need. Even with you here, Klink’ll tighten security to show off.”

“Anything we can do, sir?”

Hogan sighed. “I’ll let you know. Main thing is, get that plane fixed before the Gestapo gets curious.”

“Yes, sir.” Sheppard stepped over to the hole and looked down. “You guys okay down there?”

“Peachy,” Beckett called back, which made both Sheppard and Teyla smile.

“We will be fine, John,” Teyla added. “We will be here should you need us.”

Sheppard’s smile softened a bit. “Okay. Take care.”

Teyla backed down the ladder, and Hogan followed. Sheppard studied the stove for a moment before kneeling to move the base. It slid into position easily.

A glance at the table told both Sheppard and Zelenka that they’d get no more conversation out of McKay, who was absent-mindedly eating the sandwich that was in one hand while the other danced across the screen of his tablet. They shared an amused smile before Zelenka asked, “By the way, Colonel, where did you learn German?”

“Oh, it was required for science majors at Stanford. And I spent a couple of years at Ramstein in the mid-’90s, before I married Nancy....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abbreviations:  
> USAAF: United States Army Air Force (the WWII designation)  
> RAF: Royal Air Force (UK)  
> ALA: Armee l'Air (French Air Force)  
> IOA: International Oversight Agency  
> USAF: United States Air Force (the current designation)
> 
> Language notes:  
>  _Ausgezeichnet_ = excellent  
>  _Pfützespringer_ = Puddle Jumper  
>  _Torschiff_ = Gateship (from SGA "Rising": Ford: "It's a ship, it goes through the [Stargate]...." Sheppard: "Oh, okay. It's official. You don't get to name anything, ever.")


	2. Operation "This Will Most Likely End Badly"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: References to HH "D-Day at Stalag 13," "Duel of Honor," "Operation Briefcase," and "The Big Picture" (though the relative timeline is mine) and SGA "The Kindred" and "The Seed."

The next day, for being a Monday, was blessedly uneventful. After breakfast, Klink gave Sheppard, McKay, and Zelenka one of his standard camp tours, during which they "met" Hogan and accepted his offer of one of LeBeau's famous gourmet dinners. McKay and Zelenka spent the rest of the day in the Jumper, reviewing flight data and running diagnostics, while Sheppard alternated his time between helping as much as they would let him, dodging Klink's attempts to wheedle information out of him, and hanging out in the tunnel with the rest of his team. For their part, Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon got a complete tour of the tunnel system from Kinch and Newkirk and quietly noted possible ways to use the prisoners' innovations to help even the most agrarian peoples of Pegasus fight back against both the Wraith and would-be tyrants like the Genii. Hogan and Carter, meanwhile, organized a handful of feigned attempts to get outside the fence and sneak into the tent, which succeeded in further convincing Klink and Schultz that the Jumper really was a Luftwaffe project. Klink even reported it as such to Gen. Burkhalter when the latter made his Monday check-in call.

That night the Lanteans gathered in the tunnel with Hogan and Kinch to get McKay's assessment. The news wasn't good.

"Because the drive works best when the interval is at least two hundred years, it's going to take us two jumps to get home," McKay explained. "The good news is that we can repair it enough to make exactly two jumps. The bad news is that it will take us a week, maybe two, to fix everything."

"Oh, great," groaned Beckett. "I didn't bring more than one injection."

McKay grimaced. "We'll get you home in time, Carson. I swear."

"Injection?" Hogan frowned.

"It's a... specialized medication I have to take once a week," Beckett explained. "Even if it were safe to radio London, ye couldna get it--it's a drug we just developed in the last year. The condition's quite rare, I'm afraid."

"I see."

"Is there anything the rest of us can do to help?" Teyla asked McKay.

"Not right now," Zelenka replied. "There are many crystals to arrange and repair, many wires out of place. Too many of us in the Jumper at once... it would be bad."

Hogan and Kinch exchanged a confused look at that.

"Not to mention the fact that until we get the cloak fixed, that tent's nowhere close to being soundproof," McKay added. "The only voices those guards should be hearing are ours... Sheppard can get away with his normal accent when he's inside the Jumper, but we definitely can't risk them hearing a woman's voice."

"Crystals?" Kinch asked.

"Yes, it's mostly crystal-based technology," Zelenka confirmed.

After an uncomfortable pause, Sheppard sighed. "The Puddle Jumper isn't an airplane. It's a spaceship."

Hogan and Kinch looked at each other again.

"Well, that explains some things," Hogan finally said.

* * *

Tuesday morning found Beckett upstairs after roll call, negotiating with LeBeau for some genuine coffee so that McKay would stop complaining about the not-coffee available in the officers' mess. Kinch and Carter suddenly came in from outside and called for Hogan.

"What is it?" Hogan asked as he came out of his office.

"We've got company," Kinch stated.

"Radio detector truck and a staff car," Carter added. "Can't tell who it is, though."

Several of the prisoners crowded around the windows and held the door ajar. Beckett stood behind LeBeau and Newkirk at one window and just managed to glimpse a man wearing a Gestapo uniform cap and a brunette woman wearing a tall fur hat. LeBeau gasped in delight at the latter sight.

"Marya!" Hogan exclaimed, clearly not as pleased to see her as LeBeau was.

"She has come back to me!" LeBeau cried.

"Oh, do us a favor," Newkirk replied, rolling his eyes.

"Someone you know, Colonel?" Beckett asked Hogan.

Hogan nodded grimly. "White Russian, still collaborates with the KGB. She's worked with us before, and she's nothing but trouble."

"Lovely." Beckett turned back to the stove and picked up the coffee pot. "Well, I'd best get this over to Dr. McKay if he's to get any work done today...."

"Uh-oh," Kinch interrupted.

"What?" Beckett turned back toward the prisoners.

"Are they already out there?" Hogan asked.

"Aye, I believe so," Beckett replied. "Why?"

"Marya's headed their way."

Beckett swore heartily in Gaelic and scrabbled in his pockets for his radio.

* * *

In the Puddle Jumper, the Lanteans were unaware of events transpiring outside until, with a sudden twinge of unease, Sheppard reached up and touched his radio earpiece. "Teyla, come in."

"Go ahead," Teyla replied.

"You sure there are no Wraith around?"

"Quite sure." The Athosian's confusion showed in her voice.

"'Cause I'm gettin' that same itchy feeling I get whenever Todd's around."

"There is _no way_ Todd could have followed us here," McKay stated.

"Stranger things have happened," Zelenka observed wryly.

Sheppard sighed. "All right. I'm gonna go check it out."

"Wait a tic, John," came Beckett's voice. "There's a Gestapo officer just came into camp with a White Russian named Marya. Col. Hogan seems more worried about her than he does about the Gestapo man. And she's headed your way."

"Great. Thanks. Sheppard out." He shut off his radio and slid the earpiece into his coat pocket.

"You're not still going out there?" McKay asked.

Sheppard shot him a Look and drew his Luger.

"Right." McKay subsided and got back to work.

Barely had Sheppard emerged from the tent, however, than his nose was assaulted with Chanel No. 5 and cigarette smoke while a fur-clad arm snared his left arm and a sultry Russian alto purred, "We-ell, hello again, darling!"

Sheppard turned to the woman beside him and smiled tightly as he took in the flamboyant furs, the long cigarette holder, the heavy makeup, the artfully arranged hair, the cunning blue eyes that acknowledged that they had not in fact met before. _Best to play along_ , he thought, and acknowledged her with a simple "Marya."

Her response was to pull him into a passionate kiss, and he just managed not to gag on her smoke-and-coffee breath. He was rattled enough to be unable to follow what she babbled at him and at the guards standing nearby. What he did catch was something about going to Klink's quarters "to catch up with one another."

Sheppard didn't resist, but neither did he holster his gun. He did steal a glance at Barracks 2 and prayed that Hogan would come provide backup.

_Like I'm walking around with a live grenade in my pocket_ , he'd said of working with Todd. Marya evoked that feeling and then some. At least she wasn't a Wraith queen, so she wouldn't feed on him--but that didn't mean she wouldn’t turn him in....

Once they were in Klink's quarters, Marya tried to force another kiss but stopped short with an appreciative chuckle when Sheppard pressed the gun against her stomach. "I see you do not trust me," she said in English with a wry smile.

"You're right," Sheppard replied in kind, not even attempting an accent as he saw the stove moving behind her. "I don't. What do you want?"

"Nothing!" Marya replied with a dismissive hand wave.

LeBeau suddenly appeared at her elbow. "I believe you," he stated, looking up at her with adoring eyes.

"Ah, my small one," she crooned, ruffling the short Frenchman's hair.

"LeBeau," Hogan said firmly as he came up from the tunnel.

"Yes, sir," LeBeau answered reluctantly. Marya kissed the top of his head, and he headed to the door to serve as a lookout.

Marya turned to Hogan and smiled flirtatiously. "You are happy to see me, Hogan darling?"

"Not really, no," Hogan replied bluntly. "What's the idea?"

"Sit down."

Hogan and Sheppard exchanged a glance. Then Hogan sat down on the couch with Marya while Sheppard put his gun away, grabbed a chair from the dining table, and sat in it backward.

"I came here for three reasons," Marya began. "First, to find out what Col. Schäfer here is working on. Otto could learn nothing from the Luftwaffe."

"It's Sheppard, and it's classified," Sheppard replied. "But believe me, your government will learn all the details in due time."

"How soon is due time?" Marya asked slyly.

" _Ike_ doesn't even know about it yet," Hogan answered.

"Ah." That seemed to satisfy her. "Second, to warn you about Col. Pungenhorst. Until just a few months ago, he was stationed at Auschwitz, but Himmler recalled him to Berlin to help investigate the attempted assassination in July. Otto is suspicious of Stalag 13 because of Gen. Stauffen’s visit here just before the attack--and _this_ time, Hogan darling, I swear by Saint Alexei he has heard nothing about you from me, not even a hint."

Hogan’s eyebrows rose. Marya _never_ invoked the saints.

"I believe you," LeBeau stated unnecessarily.

" _LeBeau_ ," Hogan and Sheppard chorused.

Marya disregarded the interruption. "Third, to bring you the information you were supposed to get from the Underground courier Sunday night. I just happened to be present when Pungenhorst received the briefing. One of his junior officers is a double agent, and he informed London that I would come."

"What happened?" Hogan asked.

"Three couriers were to meet with an informant in the nuclear research program. One of them was betrayed to the Gestapo. All four men were killed, but one lived long enough to escape to a radio and call London. A radio detector truck intercepted the transmission. The man was badly wounded and got out only a fragment of the information before he died, and some of that was obscured by static."

"Explains the radio silence order. Okay, let's hear it."

"Somewhere in Swabia there is a top-secret atomic laboratory. That is all Pungenhorst knows; that is all I know for certain. But the courier managed to say that it is near something beginning with 'Schwäbisch.'"

Sheppard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That narrows it down to Schwäbisch Gmünd or Schwäbisch Hall."

"Could also be the Schwäbisch Alb," Hogan noted. "But that's way too far for us to get there easily." He looked at Sheppard carefully. "Unless you have an idea?"

"Yes, sir, I think I do. Excuse me." Sheppard hurried down into the tunnel, looped his earpiece back over his ear, and activated it as he walked to the map room. "McKay, Zelenka, come in."

"Sheppard! Carson said Marya dragged you off to Klink's quarters. What happened?" McKay demanded.

"Later. If you disconnect the time-travel drive, how long will it take to get the Jumper flying?"

In the Jumper, the two scientists exchanged a puzzled look before checking their computers. "A few hours," Zelenka finally replied.

"What about the cloak?"

"Less than that, but it wouldn't be a permanent fix," McKay answered.

"Great. How long to disconnect the time drive?"

"Two hours," said Zelenka.

"What, are we going somewhere?" McKay asked.

"Reconnaissance flight," Sheppard stated.

"Are you _nuts?!_ " McKay exploded. "Do you have _any idea_ what effect that could have?"

"Rodney, we've got very patchy intel on an atomic research lab. We _can't_ risk letting Hitler develop the bomb."

"So what, we're gonna take it out with a drone?"

"Not unless we have to. We do a fly-by, we get the data, we radio London from orbit, and _they_ decide what to do. With luck, they can get it with a routine bombing run or a commando raid."

"With luck?!" McKay echoed incredulously.

Sheppard sighed. "We don't know the terrain or the defenses. We've got only a very vague idea of where it is."

As McKay continued to splutter about causality with occasional contradictions from Zelenka, Sheppard studied a map of the area in question. Teyla and Ronon, who had apparently heard his voice, came to join him. Ronon finally reached up and activated his own radio:

"McKay?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Well, pardon me for not wanting to foul up the timeline any more than we already have! I've already had to fix it myself _once_ , and that took an entire alternate lifetime! Not to mention SG-1...."

"Rodney, Col. Sheppard is right," Zelenka interrupted before McKay could get rolling again. "We have no way of knowing whether this lab might be the Nazis' one attempt to use uranium without deuterium. We can't take the chance."

McKay let out an exasperated sigh.

"The area we have to search does not appear to be more than a few hundred square miles," Teyla observed. "We should be able to find the lab fairly quickly."

"If they are working with uranium, chances are they won't have proper shielding," Zelenka added. "The Jumper's sensors should pinpoint the radiation easily."

McKay sighed again, more resignedly. "Can we at least stay in the Jumper at a high altitude?"

"No promises," Sheppard replied, "but even if we do have to land, you can stay in the Jumper."

"Okay, but I take no responsibility if anything goes wrong."

"Just get that time drive out by lunchtime. I don't wanna eat with Marya by myself."

McKay brightened at that. "Captain Kirk has met his match, eh?"

"Let's just say I'd almost _rather_ work with Todd."

"Now that's saying something," Ronon and Zelenka said at almost the same time.

Teyla just laughed.

"All right, all right," Sheppard said in mock aggravation. "I'd better get back upstairs. See you at lunch. Sheppard out."

"Is she really that bad?" Ronon wondered as Sheppard put his earpiece away again.

"Worse," Sheppard confirmed and headed back to the ladder to Klink's quarters.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Klink's office, Col. Otto von Pungenhorst was attempting to control his temper as Klink rambled on about Stalag 13's fabled no-escape record. Finally, when Klink paused for breath, Pungenhorst jumped in. "Klink, this is not a social visit. I am here on a matter of the greatest urgency."

"Oh, oh, of course," Klink replied. "Forgive me, sir."

"This summer, Klink, a great many unusual occurrences took place in this camp. I am here to learn what I can about them."

"I will be happy to cooperate with you, Col. Pungenhorst."

"Good." Pungenhorst stood and helped himself to a glass of schnapps. "There was, first of all, the destruction of a vital munitions train not far from here on the second of June."

"The Underground in this area has always been most active, sir," Klink said apologetically. "Major Hochstetter has been investigating it."

"Then the hoax perpetrated on the General Staff, in which _Der Führer_ was supposed to have chosen you to replace Gen. von Scheider on the night that marked the beginning of the Allied invasion."

"Well, you see, sir...."

"Then the appearance of Fräulein Erika Weidler at the end of June, supposedly using you as a front for an Abwehr operation."

"I was ordered...."

Pungenhorst drained his glass and plowed ahead. "Then Gen. Stauffen made this camp his final stop on his way to the Wolf's Lair, where he attempted to kill the _Führer_. Six weeks after that, a Captain Bohrmann abruptly left the investigation of Gen. Mühlendorf to transfer to Düsseldorf headquarters. He stayed here at the Hauserhof for two weeks and received large sums of money from someone in the area. Just as abruptly he tried to escape to Switzerland. He will tell us nothing about why he came here."

"What are you suggesting, Colonel?" Klink asked worriedly.

"I am not quite certain," Pungenhorst confessed. "These events appear to implicate you in a plot against the Third Reich, and I dislike a record that is too perfect, as yours appears to be. Yet that conclusion seems too simple. If Hammelburg is, as you say, a center for Underground activity, it may be that someone has been using you as a pawn in a larger game. Marya thinks so, anyway."

"Marya? Oh... yes, we... have met, yes." Klink refrained from commenting further on his, and Hogan's, tumultuous history with the Russian.

Pungenhorst poured himself another glass of schnapps. "Her tales of you do not allay my suspicions. She is much given to fantasy, especially when she seeks to rouse me to jealousy, as with this supposed reunion with your other guest."

Klink chuckled nervously.

"All the same, I have come here to find answers, and I shall have answers. I expect your full cooperation, Klink."

"Of course. I am completely at your disposal, sir. My Stalag is your Stalag."

* * *

In Hogan's office, Newkirk shook his head as Klink's conversation continued to broadcast through the bug attached to Hogan's coffee pot. "Bloody marvelous. Why is it every time we get an urgent mission, the Gestapo shows up?"

Kinch unplugged the coffee pot with a sigh. "Andrew, get Col. Hogan."

"Right," Carter nodded and hurried out to the tunnel entrance in the main room.

Beckett, whom Teyla had decided should stay with the prisoners to learn what was happening, looked from the speaker of the coffee pot to Kinch. "D'ye expect them to search, then?"

"Yeah, they might," Kinch nodded. "At least Klink'll want to take Pungenhorst on a tour of the camp. You'd better get back down. And, uh..." He gestured to his ear. "You guys might want to lay off using those radios."

"Och, they'll not be able to monitor this frequency," Beckett said cryptically. "But I will take this news to Teyla and Ronon in person. Thank you."

Before he could leave, though, a cry of "Schultz!" sounded from the next room, followed by the clatter of the tunnel entrance closing. Newkirk unceremoniously shoved Beckett into Hogan's wardrobe and shut the door behind him.

Seconds later, Schultz walked into Hogan’s office. "What are you two doing in here?" he asked Kinch and Newkirk.

"Waiting for Col. Hogan," Kinch replied. "We need to go over next week’s duty roster with him."

"Oh. Where is he?"

"I'm not sure. I just sent Carter to go find him."

"I think 'e 'ad to settle something in one of the other 'uts," Newkirk added.

Schultz nodded thoughtfully. "Well, when he gets back, tell him Kommandant Klink wants to see him in his office right away."

"Righto, Schultzie, will do."

"What's it about, Schultz?" Kinch asked.

Schultz shrugged. "I know nothing. But Col. Klink told me to tell Col. Hogan that it was urgent.”

Kinch nodded. "Okay, Schultz. We'll give him the message."

"Thank you!" And humming a little tune, Schultz left.

"You can come out now, Doc," Kinch said.

"Wait, I think I just found a door into Narnia," said Beckett's muffled but highly amused voice, much to the prisoners' confusion.

* * *

While Pungenhorst grilled Klink, Sheppard briefed Hogan and Marya on his plan, choosing his words with extreme care to avoid giving Marya information she didn't need. He couldn't tell how much she was reading between the lines, but in the end both she and Hogan agreed.

"We'll need some kind of diversion, though, to keep the guards away from the tent and to keep Klink and Pungenhorst tied down," Hogan observed.

"Well, the guards are the easy part," Sheppard shrugged. "I can tell Klink we're taking a short test flight tonight, have him order the guards back into camp while we're gone. No reason for them to be out there if there's nothing for them to guard."

"Leave Otto to me," Marya said with a devious smile that made both colonels look at each other nervously. "Have I ever failed you before, darling?" she added, playfully running a finger around Hogan's ear.

Hogan simply cleared his throat. "I guess that leaves me to take care of Klink."

"Just make sure it is not too noisy, or Otto might get too curious," Marya warned, giving Hogan's ear a tweak.

"Divide and conquer," Sheppard deadpanned.

Before the situation could become any more awkward, Carter poked his head out of the tunnel entrance. "Col. Hogan? We've had the coffee pot plugged in--sounds like the Gestapo colonel's about to start a search."

Hogan sighed. "All right," he said to Sheppard. "After noon roll call, come down through the tunnel and bring your team up to the barracks. We'll need to talk logistics, and I want to send some of my men with you just to be safe."

"Fair enough, sir," Sheppard nodded.

"Okay, LeBeau, let's go."

" _Oui, mon colonel_ ," LeBeau replied and dashed across the room to the tunnel entrance, pausing only to blow Marya a kiss before hurrying down the ladder.

"Good luck," Hogan said to Sheppard with a barely perceptible nod toward Marya.

"Thanks," Sheppard replied with a wry smile.

After Hogan disappeared into the tunnel and moved the stove back into place, Marya gave Sheppard a long appraising glance, noting his tousled dark brown hair, his hazel eyes watching her as if she were a coiled rattlesnake, the way he sat as if the back of the chair formed a shield to keep her at bay. Almost any man was an open book to her, and Schäfer--Sheppard, she reminded herself--was no exception. _A charmer if he wants to be_ , she concluded, _but a soldier now--much like Hogan._ She chuckled finally. "Still you do not trust me."

"You do remind me of a certain unfriendly friendly back home," Sheppard confessed.

"Your ex-wife?" she asked shrewdly.

Sheppard inclined his head and frowned-- _How could she know that?_ "No, actually, although now that you mention it...."

* * *

While Hogan sat in Klink’s office dodging questions from Pungenhorst and stalling to keep him from taking Klink’s grand tour too soon, McKay and Zelenka managed to get the time drive disconnected and the cloak temporarily repaired in record time, so since McKay had skimped on breakfast, they decided to collect Sheppard and Marya for an early lunch. In doing so, they inadvertently managed to dodge Pungenhorst when he visited both the tent and Klink’s quarters. The four of them were just coming out of the mess, Zelenka humming "Vergammelte Speisen" and Sheppard trying not to laugh, when Klink and Pungenhorst caught up with them. Sheppard and Marya had come to something of an understanding before lunch, and with McKay and Zelenka there for backup, he felt safe letting what McKay called his Kirk persona through in front of the genuine Nazis.

"So, Marya, you have enjoyed your reunion?" asked Pungenhorst, clearly jealous of Sheppard's rakish charm in spite of himself.

Marya pouted and deliberately gripped Sheppard's arm more tightly. "Otto, darling, we have only just found each other," she purred. "And you are busy. But I shall have to let Hansie go back to work soon, and I will be yours again."

Pungenhorst turned a withering glare on Sheppard. "I don't think I heard your name correctly."

"Oberstleutnant Johann Schäfer, Luftwaffe Intelligence," Sheppard replied, saluting with his free hand and just managing not to make his smile too cheeky. He did realize that there was really no point in deliberately antagonizing the Gestapo. "May I present my associates, Dr. Rodney McKay, Dr. Radek Zelenka."

Pungenhorst raised an eyebrow. "We had a Robert Zelenka at Auschwitz--engineer, transferred to us in December. A relative, perhaps?"

McKay and Sheppard succeeded in not reacting visibly, though Marya felt their mood shift.

Zelenka's face was unreadable as he said flatly, "I have no family."

"Ah." Pungenhorst looked slightly relieved. "Odious little man, kept pining that we made him do hard labor instead of teaching like he had at Teresienstadt. He died in January. Shall we continue, Klink?"

Zelenka held himself together long enough for Klink to hustle Pungenhorst off to the camp bakery. Then he let out a strangled whisper: " _Praděda_...."

Releasing Sheppard, Marya whispered something to Zelenka in Russian and pulled him into a genuine hug. Then she held him as he wept silently, rubbing his back and mouthing 'Great-grandfather' when the others turned puzzled frowns to her.

"Almost wish Todd _was_ here," Sheppard said to McKay under his breath, glaring after Pungenhorst. "Wouldn't think twice about feeding 'im."

"Wonder if we can arrange for Col. Pungenhorst to be in that lab when it blows," McKay mused.

Sheppard shot him a sidelong glance. "Thought you didn't want to foul up the timeline."

"For _that_ , he deserves it."

Sheppard just chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **NB: This story is an AU of two AUs.** _Hogan's Heroes_ canon is rather obviously AU in terms of WWII history; for example, in the episode "Operation Briefcase" referenced here, General Stauffen (supposed to be Klaus von Stauffenberg) picks up the bomb with which he tries to kill Hitler from the Heroes at Stalag 13. The show's episodes also jump around in the war's timeline so frequently that it's not easy to pinpoint which stories fall when. The _Stargate_ franchise is its own AU relative to RL. I've shoehorned in as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are three important points on which I’ve taken liberties:
> 
> \- History is inconclusive about the Nazi nuke program--they had one, but from what I could learn online, nothing survives to show that they were anywhere close to a working bomb. "Kommandant Schultz," probably set after D-Day, is the only _Hogan’s Heroes_ episode that brings up the use of uranium; most of the others with a nuclear research plot, especially "The Dropouts" and "Go Light on the Heavy Water," focus on heavy water (D2O) as a source of deuterium (hydrogen with two neutrons)--but they also appear to fall in the earlier years of the war. So as Zelenka said, the Lanteans have no way of knowing if this very fictional lab is the one that could make the right breakthrough.
> 
> \- Col. Pungenhorst is my OC. His rank fits with _Hogan's Heroes_ ' usual method of referring to SS officers by their equivalent American rank. His surname, according to my German name dictionary, derives from a swamp weed called _Pung_ ; I thought it appropriately odious for a Gestapo officer.
> 
> \- The story of Zelenka's great-grandfather is partly true and partly fictional--but I'll clarify which is which after Chapter 3 (which will not come as quickly if RL becomes as busy in the short term as I hope it will).
> 
> Beckett's concerns about the length of their stay are semi-canonical. This Beckett is a clone created by an enemy early in Season 3 and rescued at the end of Season 4; the original Beckett was killed in an explosion at the end of Season 3. As of the mid-Season 5 episode "Outsiders," Clone!Carson requires weekly injections of a special enzyme designed to prevent his cells from deteriorating. Writer/producer Joe Mallozzi has said on his blog that he considers Carson to have made a full recovery by the end of Season 5 and to no longer need said enzyme, but that doesn’t seem likely to me; rather, his condition strikes me as being more like diabetes or an auto-immune disease, controllable but in need of constant maintenance.
> 
> The "unfriendly friendly" (phrase courtesy _Ike: Countdown to D-Day_ ) is the male Wraith known on Atlantis as Todd. According to SGA mythology, Wraith--the tyrants of the Pegasus Galaxy--evolved from some combination of human DNA and that of a vicious parasite called the iratus bug. Todd has a long and complicated history with Sheppard that turned into an uneasy alliance with Atlantis, though events in Season 5 have made it even more tenuous than before. (One of Teyla's ancestors was captured by a Wraith scientist and genetically altered with a portion of Wraith DNA; that genetic heritage, "The Gift," allows Teyla to tap into the Wraith's telepathic network and sense when a Wraith is near.)
> 
> "[Vergammelte Speisen](http://www.last.fm/music/Die+Prinzen/_/Vergammelte+Speisen)" is a hilarious swing tune by the German pop group Die Prinzen. The chorus translates as, "Spoiled food that's overpriced should be refused." The tune alone wouldn't be noticeably futuristic, but it would still be an inside joke commenting on the quality of the food. And I figure Sheppard, being a Johnny Cash fan and (in this AU) being stationed in Germany during the mid-'90s, is more likely than McKay to have _Küssen Verboten_ hiding in his CD collection. However, the comment about feeding Todd does _not_ refer to the food in the mess hall; Wraith feed on humans' life force, much like vampires feed on human blood.
> 
> _Praděda_ = Great-grandfather (Czech)


	3. Think With Your Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for HH "The Klink Commandos."

Six years in Atlantis had done wonders for Zelenka’s ability to set aside personal grief long enough to get through a crisis. So after Marya released him and covered for him while he wiped his eyes and nose with his handkerchief, a deep breath was all it took for him to be able to answer his superiors’ concerned looks with a determined nod. Sheppard returned the nod and glanced toward the barracks, where noon roll call was still in progress.

“Hogan wants to meet with us,” he said in a low voice. “Go back to the tent, come down through the stump. I’ll meet you there.”

“Right,” McKay nodded.

But despite his inclination to run clear back to Pegasus, it was Zelenka who set the casual pace at which the scientists made their way back to the Jumper. McKay provided the covering technobabble that allowed Zelenka to maintain his composure. Not until they were inside the tent did their legs move as fast as their lips.

Sheppard, who had walked Marya back to Klink’s quarters and come down through the stove, caught up with them in the radio room, where Teyla, Ronon, and Beckett were already waiting. As Ronon knocked on the pipes, Sheppard laid a hand on Zelenka’s shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

Zelenka nodded.

“What happened?” Teyla asked just as the tunnel entrance opened.

“Pungenhorst,” McKay sighed. “Knew a Zelenka who died at Auschwitz.” At Teyla and Ronon’s puzzled frowns, he added, “Ah, _Schindler’s List_. Same camp.”

Teyla stared, Beckett paled, and Ronon scowled. Grim-faced, Zelenka hurried up the ladder before anyone else could offer condolences. There would be time to mourn later.

He didn’t see a Polish sergeant watching him sorrowfully from the bunk above the tunnel entrance.

Once both teams were assembled in Hogan’s office, Hogan began by briefing his men on the information provided by Marya and on Sheppard’s plan for reconnaissance. “Carter, Newkirk, I want you to go with Sheppard and his team. Newkirk, you’ll be in charge of sending the information to London; they know your voice. Carter, you’ll need to figure out how to destroy it.”

“Yes, sir,” both prisoners said.

“We’ll do as much as we can from the air,” Sheppard stated. “But if it’s too well hidden, we’ll probably need to send someone down to do a visual inspection.”

“Will it be safe to jump?” Carter frowned.

“It shouldn’t come to that,” McKay shrugged.

The sound of a door slamming suddenly came from the coffee pot and cut off the discussion, and the prisoners exchanged a sheepish look, having forgotten that the bug was still tuned in. Kinch started to unplug the coffee pot, but Hogan stopped him.

“Colonel, let me ask you a question,” said Klink’s voice in German. “Why did you bring a radio detector truck if your mission is to investigate the assassination conspiracy?”

“I had not planned to,” Pungenhorst admitted. “But a group of Underground couriers with highly classified information was intercepted Sunday night, and our information suggests that one of them was headed to a rendezvous in Hammelburg. Whether or not you are correct about the happenings here at Stalag 13, someone in this area is still actively working with Underground espionage agents and very probably passing information to the Allies. If I can find that person, I suspect I will have my assassin. Marya is certain of it.”

“And you expect him to try to radio the Allies?”

“I do. They cannot know why or how the rendezvous was broken; only Marya and I and my junior officers know the full story. They will most likely attempt to gather information from local contacts, and when those have proven fruitless, they will try to radio London. We require only thirty-five seconds to trace their location.”

“But you have intercepted nothing yet?”

“No, but it is only a matter of time. And we have other detectors throughout the areas we suspect were the other couriers’ destinations; sooner or later we will find someone who will talk.”

As Kinch turned a puzzled frown on Beckett, who looked vindicated, Hogan sighed and unplugged the coffee pot. “Great. I had thought you could at least radio the information back here, maybe find a safe spot on the way back to send to London. Now we have no way of knowing where to use a radio, and we’ve got no way of keeping tabs on you guys while you’re gone.”

Just as McKay began clicking his fingers, Sheppard looked at Zelenka, who was studying the coffee pot with great interest. “Radek, you think you could... wire your earwig into that?”

Zelenka looked up at him, then at Kinch, then back at the coffee pot, then back at Sheppard. “Yes, I think so.”

Sheppard grinned at him. “Excellent.”

McKay grinned at Hogan. “Then you don’t have to worry about that detector truck. We can use these to broadcast on a secure subspace channel, not using radio waves.”

“Won’t keep us in touch with London, but it will keep us in touch with each other,” Sheppard added.

Hogan nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that end of it. But the Gestapo is bound to have another radio detector truck close to that lab, wherever it is, and we don’t know where the Gestapo thinks the other couriers were headed. You can’t use a shortwave radio there, and you can’t use it here.”

“But we _can_ use it from Low Earth orbit,” McKay replied triumphantly and enjoyed the shocked expressions on LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk.

“You might not have to go that far out,” Zelenka observed.

“No, no, no. To make absolutely sure we’re out of range of the radio detectors, we need to put as many miles as is feasible between us and them. A stable low orbit will minimize the strain on the Jumper’s engines, and we’re guaranteed not to be in range of any of the detectors. And we can drop the cloak, not put so much strain on the patch.”

“What about reentry?”

“Never had problems before... we can use the shield if we have to.”

“Why can’t we just stay cloaked?” Ronon asked. “They won’t be able to find us.”

McKay shook his head. “We’ve never tried to use shortwave AM radios with the cloak. We might not be able to get through, and if we do, the radio detectors can still triangulate our location based on the direction of the signal.”

“What’d he say?” Ronon asked Sheppard.

“They’ll know where we are even if they can’t see us,” Sheppard explained.

“Oh.”

“How great of a range do the detector trucks have?” Teyla asked.

Kinch shrugged. “Twelve, maybe fifteen miles for a signal on the ground. If you reflect it off the ionosphere, it’s harder to trace.”

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Sheppard asked McKay.

“Two hundred miles,” McKay nodded.

“’Alf a mo,” Newkirk interrupted. “You want to take us to an altitude of _two hundred miles_?!”

“The Jumper is pressurized and has artificial gravity,” said Zelenka reassuringly. “Also inertial dampeners to counter suddenness of acceleration. You will not suffer any ill effects.”

Newkirk and Carter shared a stunned look, and Carter gulped audibly.

* * *

Meanwhile, Marya was buffing her nails and plotting precisely how to keep Pungenhorst occupied when there was a knock on Klink’s door. She shot one uneasy glance at the stove and went to answer. To her great relief, it was only Schultz.

“Excuse me,” Schultz said with an apologetic laugh. “Is Col. Schäfer here?”

“Who wants to know?” Marya asked with a sly smile.

“Col. Pungenhorst would like to ask him a few questions.”

Marya’s smile grew more seductive. “Tell Otto he can talk to Hansie _after_ I have... interrogated him.”

Schultz nodded knowingly. “Of course, I understand. Forgive me for interrupting.”

Genuine affection crept into Marya’s smile. “Thank you, Schultz.” Then she closed the door and leaned against it as she let relief wash over her. Not for the first time, she reflected that there were definite disadvantages to being a _femme fatale_ , especially in this unit.

* * *

“What do we do about Klink?” Kinch asked. “If his guests are all busy, you know he’ll get bored.”

“With Pungenhorst on his back, he’s got to be nervous,” Hogan observed. “He always says a good game of chess helps him calm down. So once Marya gets Pungenhorst out of the way, I’ll go over to Klink’s office and suggest a friendly game of chess, a glass of schnapps, and a chance to vent. We can talk about Marya if nothing else.”

“Do you think we can trust her, Colonel?” Carter frowned.

“Of course!” LeBeau exclaimed.

“Not completely,” Hogan countered with a glare at LeBeau. “But I don’t underestimate her, and the only reason she would want to foul up this mission is if she really has gone Nazi, which I doubt. She’s been throwing herself at Sheppard like he’s an old flame, and I’ve only seen her do that once before.”

“With Klink,” Kinch remembered. “Trying to make von Waffenschmidt jealous and get him chasing us as a decoy from the real spy ring he was after.”

“Exactly. So she might-- _might_ \--be on the level this time. Can’t be sure, but we don’t have much choice. If Pungenhorst does get away from her, though... you know what to do.”

Kinch and LeBeau nodded.

“Okay, that’s it. Any questions?”

“What time should we be ready?” Newkirk asked.

“Sometime this evening,” McKay replied. “We can give you a better estimate around dinnertime.”

“Provided we give Zelenka enough time to set up the radio,” Sheppard added.

“Yes, right,” Zelenka nodded. “Should not take long--maybe an hour.”

“We’ll let you get to work, then, Doctor,” Hogan stated with a meaningful look at his team.

As the others trooped out of the office, Zelenka pushed his glasses up his nose, pulled a small tool set and his radio earpiece out of his pocket, and sat down to think through the challenge he’d been set.

* * *

“Ah, Col. Sheppard!” Marya said as Sheppard’s head appeared in the tunnel entrance. “Otto is looking for you, but I told Schultz I wanted to... speak with you first.”

“Careful, Marya, people will talk,” Sheppard joked.

Marya waved her hand dismissively. “Let them talk! The more jealous Otto is, the less likely he is to figure out what is happening here. Even if he knows that we have never met before, we can make him think you are a rival for my affections.” She snorted. “You are much better for that than Klink.”

“I can see why.” Sheppard slid the stove back into place.

Marya patted the couch beside her. “Sit down.”

Sheppard crossed to the chair he’d occupied earlier and sat down, still very much on his guard.

“Tell me. What did you mean when you said that McKay did not want to foul up the timeline?”

“The timeline of the mission,” Sheppard lied smoothly even as he cursed inwardly--he didn’t think she’d heard their quiet exchange. “Trying to get Pungenhorst to the lab could mean fairly significant delays, and McKay feels sure London will want the place bombed immediately.”

Marya tilted her head and studied Sheppard as she took a long drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out again. “I can tell that you are lying,” she finally stated, “but the possibilities are confusing, and I cannot tell what the truth is. You have had much practice in resisting interrogation.”

“Well, I _was_ married once.” Memories returned unbidden--Afghanistan, black ops gone wrong in places he couldn’t pronounce, Genii interrogator Acastus Kolya, Wraith queens....

Another drag. “I think,” she continued slowly, “that for once Schultz is right--is better for me to know nothing. I do not know from rockets, I do not know from _Pfützespringer_. But one thing I must ask you.” Her cocky, kooky demeanor subsided completely, and her face became troubled. “Will I ever see Petrograd again?”

Sheppard sighed, letting his own guard down for the moment. “I don’t know your future, Marya. Truly. I’m sorry.”

Marya searched his face and nodded sadly. Then the light of cunning returned to her eyes as she asked, “Would you tell me if you did know?”

The corner of Sheppard’s mouth tugged upward as he replied, “John P. Sheppard, Lieutenant Colonel, United States Army Air Force....”

Marya cut him off with a laugh. “Do you play chess, Sheppard darling?”

* * *

Zelenka finished double-checking his radio’s connection to the coffee pot and turned to leave, only to discover that the exit was blocked by a man in Polish uniform. The stranger asked him something in Polish that he didn’t quite catch, so he replied in Czech. After a few more questions on each side, they discovered that they could converse fairly well in Russian, and the stranger introduced himself as Sgt. Karol Potowsky.

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” Zelenka asked.

Potowsky looked somber. “I heard you had lost someone at Auschwitz. I thought perhaps you might like to talk about it where the others cannot hear.”

“McKay speaks Russian,” Zelenka replied dubiously.

“Col. Hogan says we may stay here in the office and not risk being disturbed.”

Zelenka gave him an appraising look, recognizing something in his face that he had seen often in his elders during the years of Communist rule. “You have lost many yourself.”

Potowsky nodded. “Klink does not know I am a Jew by birth. I am Catholic by choice, and that is all they need to know. My only mail comes from my priest. I say it is because my family is estranged, and that is partly true, though we still were on speaking terms before the war. But if the war does not end soon, I may not have any family left to go home to.”

After a moment of understanding silence, Zelenka sat down heavily at Hogan’s desk, took off his glasses, and hid his face in his hands as he tried not to cry. Potowsky sat down on Hogan’s bed and waited.

Finally, Zelenka pulled himself together. “You know where we come from?” he began. At Potowsky’s nod, he continued, “I had always known, you see, that Great-grandfather died of dysentery in Auschwitz. But it was a fact whispered in the dark, where government ears could not hear. Never... not even....” He stopped himself, not daring to mention the Prague Spring, which he didn’t remember, or the Velvet Revolution, which he did. “Not once have I had to confront it so.

“There have been no practicing Jews in my family for many years, and when the family converted, the children did not hesitate to marry Christians and even Germans. Great-grandfather was the only person in the family who was still considered a Jew under Nazi law. He did not know if he could get away himself, but he made sure Great-grandmother Lily and the rest of the family could make a clean escape. But only the women got away to England. Grandfather and my uncles went into hiding and worked with the Resistance. My father was not yet born.” Zelenka shook his head. “They say Great-grandfather was just days away from making his own escape when they came for him. The neighbors were all too afraid to try to help him.”

“They tell the same stories of my village,” Potowsky sighed. “I was already a POW; otherwise they would have taken me, too.”

Zelenka shook his head again. “I wish... I wish there were something I could have done.”

“Well, you know what they say about wishes,” Potowsky said with a wry smile.

Zelenka returned the smile, equally wryly. “Yes.” Memories of Atlantis’ past catastrophes flashed through his mind. “Yes, I know.”

After another moment of silence, Potowsky stood. “I should not keep you from your work, Doctor.”

Zelenka also rose and shook Potowsky’s hand. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

And with that, both men left the office, and Zelenka made his way back underground and up through the emergency tunnel.

McKay looked up as Zelenka walked into the Jumper, and his face fell. “Hey, um... you left the channel open.”

Zelenka’s face flushed. “You heard?”

“You coulda told _us_.”

Zelenka shook his head. “I’m sorry, Rodney. I’m still... trying to process it.”

McKay nodded in understanding. “The Soviets didn’t like people talking about the Holocaust. Especially in Czechoslovakia.”

“No. Not that they needed that reason to suspect us, with so many relatives in England. You know, my mother wanted to escape to England or Canada when I was a child, before the Russians returned. My father hoped the change would be permanent. And we were very poor. It would have been very hard to get away from Kutná Hora.” Zelenka’s eyes fell as he shook his head again. “To have been so close... if we had come here ten months sooner....”

“Radek. Don’t.” Zelenka looked up to see his own anguish mirrored on McKay’s face. “Don’t think that way. We couldn’t have bluffed our way into Auschwitz, even if we’d gotten here in time. And God only knows what it would do to the timeline.”

“You’ve considered it?” Zelenka asked in surprise.

“Besides,” McKay continued brusquely as he turned back to the panel he was working on, “we’d have to get this thing working again regardless.”

“Rodney.”

McKay looked up again.

“ _Děkuju_.”

McKay gave him a small smile. “ _Není zač_.”

* * *

Sheppard checked his watch as he waited for Marya to study the chessboard. They had been playing just long enough for their supposed tryst to look authentic to Pungenhorst, which was a relief. Sheppard didn’t think his nerves could stand being cooped up with Marya much longer, and not just because she’d beaten him three times in a row. She reminded him alternately of Todd and Vala Mal Doran, whom he _also_ didn’t trust.

“Checkmate!” Marya finally cried and moved her queen to take out the bishop protecting Sheppard’s king.

_No doubt about it_ , Sheppard thought with a sigh. _The woman is dangerous._ Aloud he said, “I’d better get you back to the VIP quarters before Pungenhorst starts looking for me.”

“Be careful of him, Sheppard darling,” she replied seriously. “He is not certain you are who you claim to be. Gen. Burkhalter took Klink’s word for it, but Otto... Otto will not like the idea that a Luftwaffe project could be so secret that the Gestapo cannot know about it. And he is very dangerous, darling. To men I can control I make hints about my beloved Hogan, to divert suspicion from the real mission on which I need his help. To Otto I make only hints about Klink.”

He nodded, and inspiration struck--a dangerous plan if Pungenhorst lived to tell about it, but something told Sheppard he wouldn’t. “I think I know what to tell him that will at least keep him guessing.”

She grinned. “You and Hogan, you have such marvelous ideas. I like you.”

They made small talk as they put the chess set away, and then Sheppard gallantly walked her around the corner to the VIP quarters. When they stopped on the porch to say goodbye, Sheppard stifled his qualms, took Marya in his arms, and kissed her long enough to turn the heads of several nearby guards. She gave him a knowing smile and the briefest of winks before sliding inside and closing the door.

_Wish I could brush my teeth--no, I need a drink_ , Sheppard thought as he headed to Klink’s office, hoping that his disgust didn’t show on his face.

And after some pleasantries, Klink actually offered Sheppard a drink. “Just one,” Sheppard said by way of acceptance as he sat down. Then Pungenhorst chased Klink out of the room.

Sheppard had just surreptitiously washed his mouth with the first swallow of schnapps when Pungenhorst asked in English, “Tell me, Colonel, why do you have an Englishman working for you?”

Sheppard frowned. “ _Wie, bitte?_ ”

“I asked why you have an Englishman working for you.”

Sheppard shook his head. “ _Auf Deutsch, bitte_.”

Pungenhorst looked at him narrowly and repeated the question in German.

“Oh, you mean McKay!” Sheppard replied in German, as if he finally understood. “He’s Canadian, actually, but a scientist above all else, completely apolitical. Zelenka convinced him to defect to work on this project.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Zelenka and I have been working on this project since we reclaimed Bohemia. I don’t recall which of us found the other, but we had similar ideas and thought we could make it work if we joined forces. But we got stuck, unfortunately, and Zelenka remembered McKay having done some work on a related theory back in the early ’30s. The Canadian government wasn’t interested, but I assured him that we were. So here we are.”

“And what exactly is your project, Colonel?” Pungenhorst asked smoothly.

Sheppard shook his head and chuckled. “Sorry, sir. It’s classified.” He drained his glass and set it on the desk.

“And I am a _Standartenführer_.”

“I can’t help you, Colonel. I’m sorry.”

“But you can help a Russian agent?”

Sheppard frowned and stood slowly. “Marya is no agent, Colonel, or _you_ would not be involved with her. Why are you questioning _my_ loyalty?”

“The Luftwaffe High Command claims to have no record of you.”

“Well, of course they’d disavow a project like this!”

“A project like what?”

Sheppard narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

“Col. Schäfer,” said Pungenhorst dangerously, “if you want to live, you will tell me of your project. And in return, you have my word as a German officer that the information will not leave this room.”

Sheppard’s eyes flicked to the door. “How do I know the room is secure? How do I know Klink is not eavesdropping?”

“You suspect Klink?” Pungenhorst raised an eyebrow.

“Really, Colonel, do _you_ believe a no-escape record? Colditz is supposed to be escape-proof, but they’ve had more escapes than any other _Oflag_ in Germany!”

Pungenhorst nodded slowly. “The room is secure,” he finally stated. “But if your information should reach the Allies, we will know who is responsible.”

Sheppard inclined his head. “Very well. Have you heard of a great ring discovered in Giza in 1928, the ‘Doorway to Heaven’?”

Pungenhorst frowned. “It sounds... vaguely familiar. I believe it was removed to America at the outbreak of war.”

“But I have contacts in America.” Sheppard drew closer to Pungenhorst and lowered his voice. “We have reason to believe that the doorway leads to another planet, one with masses of undiscovered technology that could help us defeat the Allies once and for all. The _Pfützespringer_ will help us get there. As soon as we are ready, my men in America will steal the _chappa’ai_ and transport it to Germany by U-boat. Then... then we take what we want from the other side.” His eyes shone with the passion of a fanatic. “To paraphrase the _Führer_ , today Taonas, tomorrow the world.”

Pungenhorst looked skeptical. “Why do you think there will be weapons on the other side?”

“This doorway was the key to the rule of the god-king Ra,” Sheppard explained, lowering his voice even further. “In fact, it looks like all the gods of Egypt were humanoid aliens who came through the _chappa’ai_ and ruled for thousands of years. If we can get to their planet, who’s to say that the _Führer_ could not institute a _Ten_ -Thousand-Year Reich and become a god himself?”

Pungenhorst studied him for a long moment. The story was utterly implausible, and yet... someone in the Luftwaffe High Command must believe it enough not only to give the brash young colonel what he needed to pursue this crazy scheme but also to cover for him by denying all knowledge of the affair. He had seen such relationships before, such as the search for the Spear of Longinus in Vienna that officially never happened even though several of his superiors had gossiped about it for months. Who was he to say for certain?

Finally, Pungenhorst sighed. “Very well, Colonel. I will ask for no more details--the less said of this, the better. And I will hold to my word. I hereby forget everything you have just told me.”

Now it was Sheppard’s turn to sound dangerous. “I will hold you to that, Col. Pungenhorst--and should it reach Berlin, _I will know_. And _you will pay_.” And he left.

For all Sheppard’s military training, some experiences still proved far more draining than combat, and this was one of them. The adrenaline crash hit just as he reached the Jumper. McKay barely had time to clear the pilot’s seat before Sheppard collapsed into it.

“What happened?” McKay demanded.

Before Sheppard could answer, a chirp from his pocket signaled someone else wanting to talk to him. He pulled out his radio earpiece and put it on. “This is Sheppard. Go ahead.”

“Heard every word, Colonel,” Hogan’s voice said. “Don’t know and don’t care how much of it was true, but I just had to say: that was one _hell_ of a performance. Wish I could give you an Oscar for it.”

Sheppard chuckled wearily. “Thank you, sir. Makes it all worthwhile. Sheppard out.” And before McKay could object, he propped his feet on another seat, settled his cap over his eyes, and fell fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months back, jennytork posted about her disturbing discovery of a suitcase belonging to “Zelenka, R” among relics shown on a documentary about Auschwitz. The only matching record in Yad Vashem’s online database is for Robert Zelenka of Kutná Hora, Bohemia, an engineer who lived in Prague before the war and died of dysentery in January of 1944 at the age of 58. Had he lived, he would have been 81 when Radek was born in 1967. Beyond these facts, I could find no information about him and very little about his widow Lily, so I made up the rest in a way that I hope honors the memory of the real Robert Zelenka and all the victims of the Holocaust.
> 
> The rest of Zelenka’s backstory is mostly my own invention. Given his comments in “Tao of Rodney” about growing up poor, I figured it made sense that the family would move back to Kutná Hora after the war; there are hints, especially in “Tabula Rasa,” that he knows a thing or three about resistance work; and David Nykl’s family did escape to Canada during the Prague Spring in 1968.
> 
> According to Stargate mythology, the Gate was indeed discovered in 1928 among the pyramids and shipped to America in 1939; Ra and the other Egyptian gods were humans taken as hosts by Goa’uld, a megalomaniacal snakelike parasite that bestows godlike powers on the host. The first attempt to use the Stargate was in 1945, when the American government thought the Gate itself could be used as a weapon. The first man to go through was lost on an unnamed, deserted planet because he had no way to dial Earth, so the Gate was not used again until 1994, when Daniel Jackson and Jack O’Neill first went to a planet named Abydos, which was then under Ra’s control. The Goa’uld evolved on P3X-888 and stole all of their technology from the Ancients, who built the Stargates and Atlantis. Taonas, the Ancient outpost Sheppard names, wasn’t discovered until the end of SG-1 Season 7 on the highly volcanic planet Proclarush; SG-1 thought at first that it might be Atlantis, but all they were able to recover from it was a power source. So Sheppard didn’t tell the whole truth, but what Pungenhorst could do with the info is anybody’s guess.
> 
> Vala Mal Doran, formerly host to the Goa’uld Qetesh, is an interstellar thief and con artist who tried to steal the Earth ship Prometheus from Daniel Jackson and later found her niche as a member of SG-1. She’s just about as outrageous as Marya.
> 
> _Děkuju_ = thank you (Czech, informal)  
>  _Není_ _zač_ = you’re welcome (Czech, informal)  
>  _Chappa’ai_ = Stargate (Goa’uld) -- originally mistranslated by American archaeologists as “Doorway to Heaven”


	4. So Much for the Frying Pan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to (but not exactly spoilers for) SGA "Thirty-Eight Minutes," "Duet," and various arcs from Season 5. For an explanation of Col. Conlon, see "There and Back Again."

Sheppard didn’t think he’d been asleep more than a minute when McKay started shaking his shoulder. “G’way, Rodney....”

“John, it’s time for dinner,” McKay replied, concerned.

Frowning, Sheppard pulled his hat off his face and discovered that it had gotten dark outside and the Jumper’s internal lights were on. His stomach growled, confirming McKay’s statement. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Five hours. What were you doing this afternoon?”

Sheppard stood up and stretched as he thought back. “Playing chess with Marya, and then... yeah, I went toe to toe with Pungenhorst. Think I confused him enough that he won’t be a problem for now, but there’s a good chance we will have to make sure he’s in the lab when it blows.”

“Oh, you didn’t.”

“What?”

“You told him about the Stargate?”

“Nothing that Langford and Littlefield don’t already know, and a lot that isn’t true. I’m just saying we need to make sure it doesn’t get back to Berlin.”

“Like what that wasn’t true?”

Sheppard smiled deviously. “Oldest lie in the world, Rodney--‘ye shall be as gods.’”

“You told him about the _Goa’uld?!_ ”

“Not as such, no. Not too many people want a snake in their heads. And I didn’t want to get that specific given that no one currently knows for sure what’s on the other side of that wormhole. I just... offered some vague possibilities.” At McKay’s skeptical look, he added, “Marya gave me the idea.”

McKay sighed. “Remind me never to time-travel with you again.”

“How are the repairs coming?”

“I told Hogan we’d be ready to go at 2130. Cloak’ll work temporarily, shield should be fine, navigation’s close and so are flight controls. No weapons or hyperdrive, but we shouldn’t need those.”

“Good. Where’s Zelenka?”

“He and Carson are moving the time drive down into the tunnel. He’s gonna work on it tonight while we’re gone.”

“Is he....”

McKay grimaced. “As well as can be expected. I think he’s glad to have something else to focus on.”

“Yeah.” Sheppard sighed. “Guess we’d better get to the mess hall before Marya comes looking for me.”

“You’re not, um....”

“Look, whatever you hear from the guards, it isn’t true, but Pungenhorst has to think it is.”

“Oh.” McKay nodded. “Should I change some of the stories about you and Larrin to be about you and her?”

“Only if you want me telling stories about Cadman and Beckett’s first kiss,” Sheppard returned dryly as he put his cap on and headed out of the Jumper.

McKay paled. “You wouldn’t!"

* * *

Dinner was a fairly low-key affair, or as low-key as anything involving Marya could possibly be. Klink came over to their table about halfway through the meal to check on them.

“By the way, Colonel,” Sheppard said, “we will be making a series of short test flights tonight, so we’d appreciate it if you could confine the prisoners to the barracks and keep your guards away from the _Pfützespringer_ for the evening. We may be out quite late; we won’t be going very far, but it may take several sustained flights around the village to test all the systems that have been repaired and see what remains to be done.”

“Of course, Colonel,” Klink agreed. “How close do you think you are to finishing your repairs?”

“We will know better after tonight,” Zelenka stated, “but we probably have several days’ worth of work left to do.”

“I see. Well, good luck, gentlemen, and if there’s anything you need, feel free to ask me.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Sheppard said courteously but dismissively.

Klink took the hint and left, while Marya made a fuss over “Hansie” having to work. Sheppard had just about “calmed” her as they prepared to leave when Pungenhorst entered and made a beeline for their table.

“I’m glad to catch you, Dr. McKay,” Pungenhorst said after exchanging some pleasantries. “I had a question about the _Pfützespringer_ \--I understand it has some... unusual capabilities.”

McKay shrugged. “Oh, yes, high altitude, radar evasion, you name it.”

“How do you make the engines work properly under such conditions?”  
  
Covering Marya's hand with his own, Sheppard gave McKay a look that McKay understood all too well: _Technobabble_ _, but nothing either of them can use if they remember a word of it._

McKay cleared his throat nervously and abandoned his tenuous German. “Well, since it’s classified... do you mind if I explain it in English?”

“Not at all,” Pungenhorst replied.

With another glance at Sheppard, McKay said, “It’s done with a thermothrockle.”

“A what?”

“A thermothrockle, anfilated through a dalegoneter. Of course, this is made possible because the dirnadan has a frenna coupling.”

“I don’t understand.”

"Well, I knew you wouldn't. If I'd told you before, the ancimeter on the other side permulates the canudaspel hepulase, and that's the entire secret. There you have it."

Pungenhorst turned a puzzled frown on Sheppard and Zelenka.

“You asked,” Zelenka deadpanned.

Pungenhorst nodded once slowly. “I see. Thank you, gentlemen. _Guten Abend_.”

“Remind me to thank Lorne for showing us _Desperate Journey_ ,” McKay said to Sheppard under his breath as the Lanteans headed back to the Jumper and Marya returned to the VIP quarters. “Never thought you’d hear me quoting Ronald Reagan....”

Sheppard chuckled and patted McKay on the back.

* * *

In the tunnel two hours later, Carter was fretting to Teyla and Beckett about the final stop the Jumper would make that night. The Lanteans exchanged amused smiles when he wasn’t looking.

Finally, Teyla laid a calming hand on Carter’s arm to cut him off. “I too was nervous when I first flew in a Jumper and had time to think about what we were doing. The technology of the Ancestors was not new to me, but I had never experienced even an aircraft before, let alone flight through space. But it is as Dr. Zelenka told you. And Col. Sheppard has flown far more dangerous missions than this during his time in Atlantis. You will be fine.”

“You fly in spaceships all the time but never saw an airplane?” Carter frowned.

“Our base is on another planet,” she said, glancing at Beckett. At his nod, she added, “I came to live there when my own planet was attacked and my people could no longer remain there.”

Carter stared at her. “You’re an _alien?!_ ”

“She’s as human as we are, if that’s what you mean,” Beckett replied.

“No, I just... wow!”

Teyla and Beckett didn’t hide their amused glance this time. _If he only knew..._.

They were spared any further awkwardness when Newkirk, Ronon, and Zelenka joined them at almost the same time. Zelenka gestured toward the ladder. “They are ready. The tent is open, but the cloak is engaged and expanded to cover the tunnel entrance.”

“Thank you, Radek,” Teyla nodded. She then gave the others a look that said _Shall we?_ , slung her P-90 strap over her shoulder, and led the way up the ladder.

Beckett watched them go before turning to Zelenka with a sigh. “You think you’ll be all right down here by yoursel’? I know you need some quiet to work, and I’ve been invited upstairs to play gin.”

Zelenka hesitated. “Actually, Carson... I would be glad to have company. Would you perhaps tell me about your work offworld last year?”

Beckett smiled. “O’course.”

* * *

Nothing could have prepared Carter and Newkirk for the sight that awaited them as they emerged from the tunnel. They barely noticed that Sheppard and McKay had changed back into their offworld gear, so stunned were they to be standing next to an honest-to-goodness spaceship that looked nothing like the illustrations in _Weird Tales_. Newkirk was less of a scientifiction fan than Carter, but even he had expected... well, a rocket, not a tilted Quonset hut with funny carvings on it.

They had no time to gawk, though, as Ronon hustled them inside and pushed them down onto one of the bench seats in the rear of the Jumper. They were still getting their bearings when McKay bustled past on his way to the co-pilot’s seat. “Yes, that’s a good place to sit,” the physicist observed in passing. “Just don’t touch anything, and you’ll be fine.”

“It doesn’t even have wings!” Newkirk whispered to Carter.

“Doesn’t need ’em,” Sheppard stated as he closed the hatch and strode forward. “All set, McKay?”

“Ready when you are,” McKay replied.

Sheppard sat down in the pilot’s seat and pressed a few controls, and Newkirk and Carter startled at the distinctive sound of the Jumper powering up. Then they stared openmouthed as, with very little sensation of motion, the Jumper lifted off the ground and shot out of the tent. Seconds later they were already above a bomber’s cruising altitude, and the drive pods whirred open as Sheppard settled the Jumper into the flight path that would take them to Schwäbisch Hall.

“Wow,” Carter breathed.

* * *

Pungenhorst stretched out on the bed in the VIP quarters without even taking off his boots and shut his eyes to try to ease the headache that was coming on. He wished he could forget the afternoon as easily as he had told Schäfer that he would, not because he had promised--what SS officer always kept his word?--but because it was all too fantastic; yet his cursed eidetic memory would not let go of Schäfer’s words. A doorway to another planet... alien gods... weapons that offered absolute power....

Hitler would buy it, whether it was true or not. And that was what worried Pungenhorst. Did he dare to report Schäfer’s crazy scheme and raise false hopes when the war was going so badly? Or was there a chance, however remote, that the thing could actually work? And what if Schäfer really did have friends in Berlin... would Schäfer make good on his threat, and how?

His reverie was broken by the sound of the door opening and shutting and by the wave of smoke and Chanel No. 5 that announced Marya’s arrival. “You have headache, Otto darling?” she asked, sounding disappointed.

Pungenhorst opened one eye just enough to look at her. “I thought you were spending the evening with your _Hansie_ ,” he stated disdainfully.

“Ah, work, work, work,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “He’s no fun anymore. But if you have headache....”

_A bored Marya is a dangerous Marya_ , Pungenhorst thought, and something in her pout stirred an appetite he had yet to understand where she was concerned. “Do you Russians have any good cures for headaches?”

With a dancer’s grace, Marya shed her fur coat, leapt onto the bed, and began rubbing her thumbs in circles on his temples.

* * *

Once he got over the shock of how quickly the Jumper was moving without the roar and rattle he’d been used to in the B-17, Carter moved forward to the cockpit and struck up a quiet conversation with Teyla about Athos, comparing and contrasting Sioux customs with those of Teyla’s people. Ronon even threw in a comment here and there when something reminded him of his childhood on Sateda or one of the many cultures he encountered as a runner. Newkirk, for his part, stayed warily silent, still not entirely sure Ronon wouldn’t kill him for even speaking to Teyla.

Even though Sheppard chose a speed that would put minimal strain on the Jumper’s jerry-rigged systems, the three-hundred-mile flight to Schwäbisch Hall took less than an hour. A sensor sweep of the immediate area turned up nothing. As Sheppard turned the Jumper toward Schwäbisch Gmünd, McKay broadened the sensor range to fifty miles, and immediately a blip appeared nearly thirty miles south of their location.

“That’s it,” Sheppard nodded and pointed the Jumper toward the indicated coordinates.

“What is that?” Carter frowned.

“Radiation from the lab,” McKay replied, busily tapping on his tablet. “Doesn’t tell us what they’re doing, but it is gamma radiation, which means they do have uranium or plutonium. But the readings are pretty faint, which means they either don’t have much or the lab’s well underground.”

“Or both,” Ronon rumbled.

McKay made a non-committal noise.

“Got a town name, McKay?” Sheppard asked.

“Yeah, give me a second....” More frenzied tapping. “Hohenstaufen. It’s about six miles southwest of Schwäbisch Gmünd.”

“That fits the courier’s statement, then,” Teyla noted.

Newkirk came forward to study the topographic map that Sheppard pulled up on the HUD. “Those ’ills could be a problem for the bombers, sir,” he said.

More readings appeared at Sheppard’s mental command, revealing towns and gun emplacements. “Yeah,” Sheppard agreed, “and if it is underground, bombers won’t do much good anyway. We’ll do a couple of fly-bys just to be safe.”

The next several minutes were mostly silent apart from McKay rapidly working through the sensor data and the HUD clicking as it responded to Sheppard’s queries. By the time they were five miles out, Sheppard and McKay had mapped out their objective enough to tell that the town was on the south and east sides of Berg Hohenstaufen and the lab was on its northwest.

“Is it _on_ the mountain?” Ronon asked.

“No,” McKay replied, making his own adjustments to the HUD readings to clarify the location. “It’s this foothill northwest of the mountain... looks like about nine hundred yards from the castle.”

“No flak batteries,” Sheppard frowned before shutting down the HUD. “They must be pretty confident they stopped the leak.”

“Pungenhorst seemed to think no one could have gotten enough information to find the place,” Newkirk confirmed.

The first fly-by from 35,000 feet yielded no visual clues as to the lab’s location, even though the moon was only a day past full. A second pass just above the treetops was no more helpful.

Sheppard sighed. “Looks like we’re gonna have to put boots on the ground to get a clear picture. Ronon, Teyla, Carter, Newkirk.”

“Where are you gonna land?” McKay frowned. “It’s too heavily wooded.”

“There’s enough space in the castle ruins.”

“Which are on _top of the mountain_!”

“It’s only ’alf a mile, guv,” Newkirk shrugged.

Sheppard’s eyes narrowed for a moment as he thought. “Did Zelenka ever get that transporter installed on this thing?”

McKay’s eyes widened. “Maybe....” He tapped on his tablet for a moment. “Yes!” He turned to Carter and Newkirk. “You’ll have to stay close to Ronon and Teyla; otherwise I can’t get a lock on you to beam you up again.”

Carter and Newkirk exchanged a nervous glance and nodded their understanding.

“Wouldn’t the flash give us away?” Ronon frowned.

Sheppard pulled up the HUD and pinpointed where patrols were and which way they were moving, which happened to be away from each other and from the lab. “We can beam you down here if we do it now,” he said, pointing to a clear space near what appeared to be the front door. “ _But_ we probably can’t beam you back out. One flash should go unnoticed; two would be pushing it, even if we could get a lock on Carter and Newkirk. So as soon as we beam you down, we’ll head for the ruins. Scout the area and get back to the castle as soon as you can.”

“Understood,” Teyla nodded.

McKay picked up a life-signs detector. “Um... Carter, do you think you can work this?”

Carter took it from him. It turned off.

“Give me that,” Newkirk grumbled, snatching the Ancient device away from Carter. It stayed off. “Now you’ve broken it!”

“It’s not broken,” McKay explained, taking the device back from Newkirk. “You just don’t have the genetic key that allows you to use it. I’m sorry. I thought it might be useful to know where the patrols are.”

Ronon shrugged. “I don’t think we need it.”

“Just keep your eyes open, Chewie,” Sheppard returned. “And don’t shoot anything unless you have to. You’ll have maybe ten minutes to scout before you head back. If you’re not back in forty-five minutes, we’re comin’ after you.”

McKay set the life-signs detector back on the console while he continued tapping on his tablet to set up the beaming system. After a moment’s silence, he said, “Okay, I think we’re good to go. Um, try holding hands.”

“Will it hurt?” Carter whispered to Teyla as she took his hand.

Teyla smiled warmly at him. “No. You may be a bit disoriented, but you will not feel anything.”

Newkirk very sensibly grabbed hold of Ronon’s belt just in front of the holster. Ronon looked at him oddly and gently grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. Sheppard looked back at the HUD to keep from laughing.

“Yeeeah,” said McKay, entering the final coordinates without looking around at his fellow passengers. “Here goes.” He pushed a button on the console, and the white flash of the Asgard transporter filled the cockpit. When it faded, Sheppard and McKay were alone.

“Exactly where we wanted ’em,” Sheppard stated as four new life signs appeared on the HUD. “Good job, Rodney.”

“Mm, thanks.” McKay paused and looked at Sheppard. “Do you think it was safe sending Newkirk out there with Ronon?”

Sheppard couldn’t keep from laughing, but he noted, “I did tell Ronon not to shoot anything.”

* * *

Teyla had often wondered whether the Asgard transporter would ever beam them down facing the wrong way. At first, it appeared that it had done so this time, since they materialized facing downslope. She turned, but nothing behind them suggested a door at all. Frowning, she turned to the others.

Ronon, for his part, had let go of Newkirk and had been scanning the ground with a tracker’s practiced eye. He met Teyla’s glance and pointed straight ahead, then indicated a safe path down the slope to their right.

Teyla nodded and turned to Carter, who was still shaking the spots out of his eyes. She shifted her hand to his elbow and steered him in the direction Ronon was likewise gently pushing Newkirk. Carter recovered his sight just in time to spot and silently point out a ventilator as they passed it; Newkirk recovered shortly thereafter.

A few yards later, Ronon stopped the group and pointed to a lightly-worn path to the left. They silently made their way toward it and followed it back up the slope until he stopped them again. There, barely visible even in the moonlight that filtered through the trees, was a large metal door like that of a storm cellar, nearly flush with the ground and set almost exactly at the same angle as the slope. There were no exterior lights or any other means of marking the entrance. Had they come straight down from their original position, they would have literally stumbled on it.

Teyla took a deep breath and exchanged meaningful glances with each of the men. Carter signaled to Newkirk, and the two prisoners set off in opposite directions to find other ventilators as quickly as possible while Teyla and Ronon stood guard. About five minutes later they returned and signed their numbers to each other, and Newkirk checked his watch and pointed up to the mountaintop. With a nod, Ronon led them back up the mountain at a much faster pace than they had come down.

About a hundred yards up the slope from the lab, Ronon stopped the group again and pointed through the trees to a disused road. Then he turned about thirty degrees away from the road and started up the mountain again. Newkirk and Carter turned puzzled looks on Teyla, who nodded and took off after Ronon. They shrugged and followed. After another hundred yards, they crossed another apparently disused road, and still Ronon made straight for the top.

They were barely out of sight of the road when they heard a vehicle passing behind them. Newkirk paused long enough to look back. It was a radio detector truck. He grimaced up at Ronon, who had glanced back at him with one raised eyebrow, and scrambled to catch up.

In the end, Ronon’s straight-line approach brought them almost directly to the castle ruins in just under twenty minutes with no patrol encounters. They stopped at the edge of the trees to catch their breath and look around.

“Jumper’s not here,” Carter wheezed, concerned.

“Yes, it is,” Ronon replied. “Just wait.”

And a split second later, the Jumper shimmered into view a few yards to their south in what had once been the great hall. A second after that, a shout went up from somewhere in the distance.

“Run!” Teyla breathed.

No one had to be told twice. The path to the Jumper was not completely straight, weaving as it did among the castle’s foundations, but it still took less than a minute for all four scouts to make their way into the Jumper, where Sheppard was standing guard at the base of the ramp. As soon as everyone was inside, Sheppard’s mental commands had the hatch closed and the Jumper cloaked and off the ground before he could even get to the pilot’s seat.

The Gestapo patrol that reached the ruins five minutes later would forever wonder whether the lights they had seen had been a ghost.

“Colonel, are you telekinetic?” Carter asked in wonder as Sheppard sat down.

“Not exactly,” Sheppard replied.

“The Jumper has a neural interface that’s activated by the gene I mentioned earlier,” McKay explained. “Basically, it can read the pilot’s mind.”

“What’d you find?” Sheppard asked Teyla as he pulled around for a final fly-by.

“The facility is indeed underground,” she answered, pointing to its location as they passed. “Even the Genii do not hide their labs so well. We would not have found the door until we were standing on it had Ronon not found an alternate path down the slope.”

“Looked like there’d been only one patrol that direction all week,” Ronon stated.

“Only six ventilators, sir, also very close to the ground,” Newkirk added. “No booby traps or land mines that we could see, and not many patrols, but they’d only attract attention. The Krauts ’ave really done a good job wi’ this one.”

“We could never get in there,” Carter concluded. “Maybe if the Underground knows of a way to sneak a bomb in through the front door, but my guess is they keep traffic to a minimum. There’s no way to get it from the air.”

Sheppard sighed. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. All right, McKay, how long until you have those schematics for Newkirk?”

“Ah, five minutes,” McKay replied vaguely, already at work on the task.

Carter started rifling through the cargo nets above the seats in the rear of the Jumper, studiously ignoring Newkirk’s silent attempts to stop him.

McKay’s tablet suddenly beeped at him. Frowning, he punched in a few commands, and his face paled as he read. “Oh, no, no, this is bad....”

“What?” Sheppard demanded.

“The patch isn’t holding. We’ve got, like, thirty seconds before we lose the cloak.”

“I thought you said you fixed it!”

“I _said_ temporarily!”

Ronon growled.

“All right, hang on,” Sheppard ordered and sent the Jumper straight up into the stratosphere. Though the inertial dampeners prevented the ship from jolting with the sudden acceleration, Carter’s infamous clumsiness caused him to lose his balance and pull an open satchel down on himself. The satchel in question happened to have been left by an expedition member who had been coming down with a virus when the Jumper was last used, and Carter found himself showered with used Kleenex. One even landed in his open mouth.

Though Sheppard kept his eyes on the path ahead, the rest of the team turned briefly at the noise. “Did I _not tell you_ not to touch anything?!” McKay squawked.

Carter spit out the Kleenex. “Sorry.”

“You’re a ruddy menace,” Newkirk grumbled as he helped Carter to his feet, and the two of them began cleaning up the mess.

“All right, we’re out of ack-ack range,” Sheppard announced. “Switch to the shield in case a fighter comes after us.”

“On it,” McKay replied, turning back to his work. A noise from outside heralded the switchover.

“If the cloak’s down, how will we get back?” Carter asked.

“McKay can fix it when we’re in orbit,” Ronon shrugged. “We’re not gonna need it until we head back.”

“Is that safe?”

“Our orbit will certainly be stable for the period it takes Dr. McKay to repair the cloak,” Teyla replied. “One revolution will take ninety minutes, and he usually works much faster than that.” She smiled as Newkirk and Carter exchanged a worried glance. “The first time we had to repair the Jumper in space, Col. Sheppard was badly injured, and we had only thirty-eight minutes to repair the ship before it was cut in half--and as you see, we are still very much alive. Believe me, in this case we are quite safe.”

Just a few minutes later, Sheppard eased the craft level, dropped the shield, and shut off the engines. “Okay, we’re here. Newkirk?”

Bypassing Teyla’s proffered hand sanitizer, Newkirk came forward to glance over the schematic McKay had pulled up on his tablet. “I doubt London will need that much,” he said, “but it’s good to have anyway. Thanks.”

Teyla poured some hand sanitizer onto Carter’s outstretched hand and demonstrated its use. Carter nodded, grinned, and followed suit.

“Okay, we’ll have just over three minutes before we’re out of range,” McKay noted. “What frequency do you need?”

“Emergency wavelength’s 410,” Newkirk replied.

“Just speak normally,” McKay directed as he punched the proper buttons on the console. “It works like a speakerphone.”

Newkirk cleared his throat at McKay’s cue. “Mama Bear, this is Papa Bear. Come in, please. Over.” He paused. “Mama Bear, this is Papa Bear. Come in.”

A muffled curse suddenly came over the speakers, followed by an angry voice with a heavy Brooklyn accent: “What part of radio silence do youse not understand, Teddy Boy?”

Newkirk had the grace not to groan--it _would_ be a night Col. Conlon was on duty. “We’re in a secure location, Mama Bear. And we’ve got the information on that Swabian target.”

Another curse, this one with an undercurrent of admiration. “Go ahead, Papa Bear.”

McKay gave Newkirk his seat and headed back to the control panels in the rear of the Jumper to start replacing the patch. As Newkirk continued his report, switching in and out of the emergency Sindarin code they’d devised in June, Sheppard kept an eye on his watch so that he could warn Newkirk when they were about to drift out of range. They were almost directly over London when he finished speaking.

Conlon sighed. “Concur your analysis, Papa Bear. Communication with Hohenstaufen units not possible at this time, but target must be destroyed at all costs--priority double red. Use whatever means you can. Over.”

Newkirk exchanged an unhappy look with Sheppard. “Roger, Mama Bear, will do earliest possible. Papa Bear out.”

Sheppard cut off the channel and sighed. “You catch it, you clean it, huh?”

“I suppose so, sir,” Newkirk nodded.

“Why can’t they call anyone in Hohenstaufen?” Ronon frowned.

“Because apart from the radio detector truck patrolling the area, the Hohenstaufen nobility was behind the plot to kill Hitler, and the village is probably crawling with Gestapo,” Sheppard replied.

“That the same plot Pungenhorst is investigating?”

“Yeah. Should have mentioned that, Newkirk.”

“Wouldn’t ’ave made any difference, sir,” Newkirk said with a shake of his head. “Col. Conlon probably thinks the fewer people who ’ave the information, the better.”

“What’ll we do now?” Carter asked.

“It’s Col. Hogan’s decision, not mine,” Sheppard answered. “Main thing now is to get you guys home in one piece. How’s it coming, McKay?”

“Gimme another couple minutes, but you can head back now if you want,” McKay said. “I’ll have it working by the time we need it.”

“Right.” Sheppard turned the engines back on and turned the Jumper back toward Germany.

Having caused enough trouble for one night, Carter sat on his hands to curb his impulse to stand immediately behind McKay and watch what he was doing. From the little he could see at the angle where he was sitting, he doubted he’d understand anyway. But McKay had finished and chased Newkirk out of his seat by the time Sheppard needed to raise the shield for reentry; the cloak behaved itself once engaged, and the rest of the trip home was uneventful. Once they were into the atmosphere, McKay opened a channel to the radio in Hogan’s office, and Sheppard reported their findings to Hogan.

“That is great,” said Hogan disgustedly. “That is just great. We’ve got the Gestapo on our doorstep, and London expects _us_ to take out the lab?!”

“That’s what you get for performing miracles, Colonel,” McKay observed wryly.

“Well, this one was Sheppard’s idea!”

“Sir, I did say earliest _possible_ ,” Newkirk noted. “I didn’t say ’ow soon ‘earliest possible’ would be.”

Hogan sighed. “Yeah, but we can’t wait too long. Look, let’s sleep on this. Maybe somebody will have an idea in the morning.”

“Roger, Colonel,” Sheppard replied. “We’re almost home. Sheppard out.”

Without meaning to, Carter and Newkirk both heaved a sigh of relief as the Jumper slid silently into the tent and landed. Newkirk was halfway down the ladder into the tunnel before Carter and Teyla had the tent flaps closed, but the rest of the team followed in fairly short order.

“Hey, Ronon?” Carter asked as the Satedan stopped to talk to Beckett and Zelenka. “Why does Col. Sheppard call you ‘Chewie’?”

Ronon chuckled. “You’ll find out in about thirty years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The five-line thermothrockle dialogue is from the 1942 movie _Desperate Journey_ , starring Errol Flynn and Ronald Reagan; you can find the full scene on YouTube. It’s such a brilliant piece of technobabble that I had to find an excuse for McKay to borrow it. (What’s a thermothrockle? Ah, that’s telling....)
> 
> The 3-D maps available online these days are very helpful, but the biggest problem is not knowing what _trees_ were still standing sixty years ago. I've gone on the assumption that most of the area around Berg Hohenstaufen was still forested in 1944. And hey, it's AU anyway....


	5. Can’t Be Too Careful with Wartime Epidemics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild spoilers for SGA "The Kindred" and "The Seed." The characterization of Marcus Simms belongs to marylinusca.

Newkirk awoke with a start. His bunk was shaking. A quick look around showed that his fellow prisoners were still asleep, so he looked down to Carter’s bunk. The American was pale, sweating, and shivering uncontrollably.

“Andrew!” Newkirk cried in alarm, jumping down to check on his friend.

“C-c-c-cold,” Carter moaned.

Kinch and LeBeau were at Newkirk’s side instantly, and the other prisoners were awake and paying attention. Olsen ran to get Hogan. Newkirk, for his part, pulled his blanket down from his bunk and wrapped it around Carter’s shoulders, then looked up at Kinch. “’E’s got a bad fever.”

LeBeau immediately headed to the sink to prepare a cold compress.

“Did something happen last night?” Kinch asked.

Newkirk explained the mishap with the satchel. “I can’t think that ’e could’ve picked it up anywhere else, unless it was ’ere in camp,” he concluded.

Hogan heard that much as he came out of his office. He sighed as he walked up to the bunk. “We can’t let him miss roll call. Pungenhorst would be in here in a hot second, probably beat him just for spite.”

The tremors passed as suddenly as they had begun, and Carter coughed weakly. “How long till roll call?” he asked, looking blearily at his commander.

Hogan looked at his watch. “Half an hour. Can you make it if you rest until then?”

Carter closed his eyes and nodded.

“Good boy. Newkirk?”

“I think I’m all right, sir,” Newkirk replied hesitantly, taking the compress from LeBeau and putting it on Carter’s forehead. It didn’t feel as icy cold to him as he knew it should have, but he didn’t think he felt feverish.

Hogan nodded. “Okay. Kinch, Simms, I want you to keep an eye on Carter while we’re out there. I don’t want to bother our guests unless we have to, but Sheppard did say something about Beckett being an MD. We may need him to give us some answers if it gets any worse.”

Kinch and the ever-silent Marcus Simms nodded to each other. “Roger, Colonel,” Kinch said.

A few of the prisoners got up and started dressing. Others decided to get a few more minutes of shut-eye. LeBeau managed to get Newkirk to sit at the table rather than on the edge of Carter’s bunk. Newkirk tried to keep watch over his bunkmate, but he ended up falling asleep again. He jumped when Kinch woke him five minutes before roll call.

“Sorry, mate,” he sighed. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“I guess so,” Kinch agreed, though the look he gave Newkirk expressed grave doubt about the Englishman’s health.

Newkirk got himself dressed and then woke Carter. With a groan, Carter got up and struggled into his jumpsuit. Newkirk helped him with his jacket and cap just before the whistle blew.

“C’mon, Andrew, you’ll make it,” Kinch said encouragingly, taking Carter’s arm and leading him outside.

As Schultz began counting down the formation, Newkirk suddenly noticed that the other prisoners were acting much colder than he felt. _Either they’re all having me on_ , he thought, _or I do have a fever!_ Then he realized with growing alarm that the cold air actually felt good on his skin, even though he could tell there was a bit of a bite to it; ordinarily he should need at least his greatcoat on a day like this.

Carter managed to stay upright on his own long enough for Schultz to finish the count; then his legs began to give way as another wave of tremors hit, and he suddenly stumbled against Simms. He began to murmur an apology, but a racking cough cut him off, and he just managed to clamp his handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Simms pulled Carter’s left arm around his shoulders to try to steady him. Before the force of the cough could knock both men over, Kinch threw an arm around Carter’s waist to counterbalance him.

“ _Was ist los?_ ” Schultz asked, alarmed. “He looks terrible!”

The coughing fit and tremors passed, and Carter sagged between his teammates as only the truly ill can. Kinch shook his head gravely. “Might be the flu,” he said. “He’s burnin’ up. We’d better get him inside.”

“ _Ja_ , okay,” Schultz agreed.

“Newkirk, after roll call, go get Wilson from Barracks 9,” Hogan ordered.

“Right, sir,” Newkirk nodded.

“Repoooooooooort!” Klink yelled as he and Pungenhorst strode out of his office at the same time Kinch and Simms scooped Carter into a fireman’s carry and headed back toward the barracks door.

“All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant,” Schultz replied, saluting.

“Very good. Dis-missed!”

Pungenhorst, however, spotted the movement behind the rows of prisoners. “Halt! What is going on back there?” he demanded.

Schultz turned briefly to see what Pungenhorst was looking at. “Oh, Sgt. Carter is very sick. They are taking him inside, and Sgt. Wilson will take a look at him after roll call.”

“Sick, eh? Attempting to escape, more likely!” Pungenhorst pushed through the formation and stalked up to the three prisoners in question, but before he could strike or yell at Carter, Carter sneezed violently--directly in Pungenhorst’s face. Kinch and Simms managed to turn their faces aside just in time.

“Schultz, get the prisoners inside on the double,” Klink ordered hastily and moved to head Pungenhorst off.

As the prisoners crowded around Carter to prevent Pungenhorst from coming after him again, Newkirk ran off to Barracks 9 and Hogan caught Olsen by the elbow. “Get Beckett fast,” he hissed before following Klink.

“Yes, sir,” Olsen nodded and sprinted into the barracks. He barely paused long enough for the bunk to open before scurrying down the ladder and calling for Beckett.

“Aye, Sergeant, what is it?” Beckett called back as he dashed out of the side tunnel where he, Teyla, and Ronon had been sleeping.

“Carter’s sick. Newkirk’s gone to get our own medic, but apparently there was a mishap with some tissues last night....”

Immediately Beckett was all business. “Right. Get him settled and have your man take his vitals. I’ll get my gear and be right there.”

Teyla met him halfway with his pack. “Do you need our help?”

Beckett smiled his thanks and took his pack. “Not right now, thank you, love. But keep your radio on, and I’ll call if I do need you.”

“Very well,” Teyla nodded.

Olsen was waiting at the bottom of the ladder when Beckett got there. “Thought you might need a hand with your gear,” he explained. “Wilson’s with Carter now.”

“Thank you,” Beckett nodded, handing his pack to Olsen. “It’s not too heavy in a straight line, but I’ve not tried climbin’ much with it.”

Olsen filled Beckett in on as much as he could as they hurried into Hogan’s office, where Carter had been moved to the vacant lower bunk. Hogan already had the Lantean radio on and was informing the others of the problem. “He sneezed while Kinch and Simms were holding him, but Kinch doesn’t think he sneezed on them,” Hogan concluded.

Wilson looked up then and introduced himself to Beckett before turning back to his examination of Carter. “It’s some kind of virus, I think,” he stated. “Temp’s 102, chills, tremors, aches, cough, occasional sneeze.”

“That does sound familiar,” Beckett nodded. “I may not be able to tell for certain without a blood test, but I’ll see what I can do. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the room, though, Sergeant--the technology I’m about to use is highly classified.”

“Okay,” Wilson agreed. “Thanks.”

As soon as the door closed behind Wilson, Beckett opened his pack and pulled out a tablet with a portable medical scanner. He quickly turned it on and, taking the scanner wand in his right hand, walked over to Carter.

“Whazzat?” Carter mumbled, frowning.

“It’s just a scanner, son,” Beckett said gently. “I won’t even have to touch you. Just lie still, now.” And he expertly ran the scanner an inch or so above the blanket Carter clutched.

“See anything, Doc?” Hogan asked.

“Aye, and it looks like he did pick it up in the Jumper,” Beckett sighed as he looked at the scan results. “ _Morbus horrens_ is a virus that’s quite common where we’re stationed, similar to mononucleosis or the flu except for the tremors that come with the chills. We’ve all had it at one time or another, and it’s quite possible that he picked it up from those tissues. He’ll be fine, but he’ll need rest and plenty of liquids for the next three to four days as well as aspirin to bring down the fever. And we need to watch the rest of you in case it spreads--casual contact’s no problem, but it can spread through coughing. The incubation period’s remarkably short, so we’ll know soon if it does spread. I’m afraid we’ve not developed a vaccine for it yet, and our antiviral drugs have proven ineffective, but we should be able to keep it contained in this barracks if Klink will agree to a quarantine.”

Newkirk looked worried. “I ’elped ’im clean up those tissues, Doctor.”

“Have you noticed anything?”

“I’m a bit warm.”

Beckett scanned him quickly. “Aye, I’m afraid you’ve got it too, son. If you take aspirin now, the symptoms shouldn’t hit as severely. Kinch, Simms, you should start taking aspirin as well just to be safe.”

“Oh, great,” Hogan groaned. “What are we supposed to tell Klink?”

The sound of fingers clicking came over the speaker, followed by McKay saying, “Viral meningitis. Colleges have meningitis epidemics all the time; why not a POW camp?”

Beckett’s eyes met Hogan’s and went wide as both grasped McKay’s plan.

LeBeau, however, frowned. “Why would we say that?”

“ _We_ don’t,” Hogan replied. “We talk Klink into calling the Red Cross; Baker takes the call; we get the good doctor here and his two Hawaiian assistants into camp; and _they_ tell Klink it’s meningitis.”

“What for?” Newkirk pressed.

“To quarantine the whole camp,” Sheppard answered. “It’s a perfect alibi for all of us for when we blow the lab. You guys are too sick to escape, and we law-abiding Germans would never break quarantine. Plus, Marya and Pungenhorst would be stuck here as witnesses.”

Hogan turned to his radio man. “Kinch, get in touch with the Underground, tell ’em we need a car. Thirty-second transmission, use the emergency code.”

“Right,” Kinch nodded. “C’mon, Doc.”

Beckett patted Carter’s shoulder and followed Kinch back down into the tunnel. Newkirk followed them out to find some aspirin for himself and Simms.

Carter chuckled suddenly.

“What’s so funny?” LeBeau asked.

“Sneezed on Pungenhorst,” Carter mumbled.

The prisoners could almost see the fiendish grin on Zelenka’s face when he said, “ _Dobre_. Thank you, Carter.”

“I’d better get Wilson over to Klink’s,” Hogan stated. “Hogan out.” He then switched off the radio and unplugged the coffee pot. “LeBeau, get over to Barracks 3 and have Baker stand by on the switchboard, then get Teyla and Ronon to Hopkins in Barracks 5. Once Kinch comes back up, I want him resting until Beckett clears him.”

“ _Oui, mon colonel_ ,” LeBeau replied and hurried off to fetch Baker.

* * *

“A _virus?!_ ” Klink gasped.

“Yes, sir, and it looks like a bad one,” Wilson nodded. “I can’t be sure, but it might even be meningitis... his neck’s kind of stiff. And now Newkirk has a fever, too. I don’t want to start a panic....”

“But you think it could be catching?”

“I’m afraid it might be.”

Pungenhorst went pale and muttered something unpleasant about Carter.

“Col. Pungenhorst, I give you my word as an officer that Carter did not sneeze on you intentionally,” Hogan stated for the fifth time.

“There’s a medical unit in Stalag 4,” Klink said, mostly to himself. “Fräulein Hilda!”

Klink’s secretary came to the door. “Yes, Herr Kommandant?”

“Get me Stalag 4 on the phone at once. I want to speak to the medical officer.”

“ _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_.”

* * *

Baker had never considered a radio silence order to preclude listening to the BBC; after all, radio detectors looked for transmitters, not receivers. So he knew that when he replied to Klink’s request for assistance, the answer he gave would be fairly close to what the real Stalag 4 would say:

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but the Allies are closing in on us. We’ve been ordered to evacuate to Stalag 16.”

“But Major Salzmann, we have an emergency here! Can’t your medical team come here first and then go to Stalag 16?”

“Orders are orders, Col. Klink. I’m sorry.” Baker paused. “I _might_ be able to transfer your call to a Red Cross unit, though.”

“Then please try, Major!” Klink sounded genuinely panicked.

“ _Moment, bitte,_ ” said Baker. He waited several seconds, then cued Beckett.

“International Red Cross, Dr. Beckett speaking.”

“Yes, Doctor, this is Col. Klink of Stalag 13. We have an emergency here; one of our prisoners appears to have come down with some sort of virus, and there are signs that it’s starting to spread throughout the camp.”

“I see. You’re near Hammelburg, is that right?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Beckett paused as if looking something up. “I can be there in... an hour and a half, looks like. I’ll need to bring two of my nurses with me.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t let anyone in or out until we get there, and confine your prisoners to their barracks; we could have an epidemic on our hands.”

“Understood. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Goodbye, Colonel.” Beckett looked at his watch for real as Baker disconnected the phone. “Right, I suppose I’d best change out o’ this uniform.” He paused, then looked at Baker in alarm. “Where are we going to find a nurse’s uniform to fit Ronon?!”

“Relax, Doc,” Baker smiled. “Newkirk’s not the only tailor in camp; there’s another in Barracks 5 who can handle it. Ronon and Teyla are there now.”

Beckett heaved a sigh of relief.

“By the way, Doc, does this disease have an English name?”

Beckett thought for a moment. The medical staff hadn’t tried to choose among or translate the various Pegasus names for the virus, though he learned during his post-stasis recovery at the SGC that Dr. Lee had offered a Sindarin translation, _caelgirith_ , when someone came down with it during the standard Midway quarantine period. But a childhood memory suddenly tickled the back of Beckett’s mind, and he managed to keep a straight face as he replied, “Phtheezles.”

Baker laughed uproariously. Beckett grinned and headed off to change. 

* * *

Just over an hour later, Sheppard called the two guards who were stationed outside the tent and sent them to look for an imaginary intruder in a direction that would lead them away from the road. As soon as they were gone, Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon made their break for the woods. The guards returned fifteen minutes later, and five minutes after that a car with Red Cross markings pulled up to the front gate and was admitted immediately.

Klink hurried out of his office just in time to see a bronzed young giant--too fit to be a nurse, with tattoos and a goatee and hair that, while pulled back out of the way, looked to be in some kind of long braids--coming around the car while the doctor looked for something in the trunk. The giant opened the car door to let out an equally bronzed female nurse whose beauty was matched only by a poise that screamed _Noli me tangere_.

He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt very afraid.

The doctor took his bag out of the trunk and came forward. “Col. Klink? Carson Beckett.”

Klink tore his eyes away from the nurses and shook Beckett’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Doctor.”

“These are my assistants, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan.”

“How do you do, Colonel?” Fräulein Emmagan nodded pleasantly.

Dex simply looked at him as if he were a bug. Klink gulped.

“Colonel, we should get started right away,” Beckett stated.

“Yes, of course,” Klink replied hurriedly. “Schultz!”

Schultz bustled out of the office. “Yes, Herr Kommandant?”

“Schultz, take Dr. Beckett and his assistants to Barracks 2 and give them whatever help they need.”

“ _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant._ ” Schultz saluted. “This way, please, Doctor.”

Beckett made Schultz stay outside while he, Teyla, and Ronon put on masks and gloves and went in. Hogan met them at the door, grim-faced.

“The shakes have hit Newkirk,” he reported, leading them to his office. “We moved him in here with Carter.”

“Aye, best to keep them isolated as much as you can,” Beckett nodded. “Anyone else showing symptoms?”

“No, not so far.”

Beckett nodded and retrieved the scanner he’d stashed in Hogan’s closet. Newkirk involuntarily flinched away from his hand, but he stayed still long enough for Beckett to scan him for vital signs before curling miserably into a ball. Carter looked to be asleep when Beckett checked his vitals, but his eyes cracked open just as Beckett finished.

“’Msorry, Doc,” he whispered. “’S my fault... fouled up the mission....”

Beckett pulled down his mask and smiled gently at him. “Just rest, son. You’ve not fouled up anything yet.”

Moving back into the main room, Beckett issued a general caveat about the scanner being classified, scanned Kinch and Simms, then scanned all the other prisoners for good measure. “So far, so good,” he reported when he finished. “But it’ll still be a few hours until we know for sure if anyone else has been affected. Wash your hands well after you’ve been in to check on them, and keep the door closed as much as ye can.”

“We’ll do that,” Hogan nodded.

Beckett checked his watch. “I’d need a few more minutes if I were to do a spinal tap. So, Colonel, with all this goin’ on, have you figured a way to destroy that lab yet?”

Hogan shook his head. “Not yet. I have thought about it, but apart from using the Jumper, I haven’t come to any conclusions yet. We can’t radio Hohenstaufen, and we don’t have another way to get there from here.”

“Does the Jumper have weapons?” Kinch asked.

“Aye, it fires an energy weapon called a drone,” Beckett replied.

“Would not the energy signature from a drone be easily detected?” Teyla frowned.

Hogan chuckled in spite of himself. “Our technology’s not that advanced yet.”

“McKay would say we’d need to lower the shield over the lab so the radiation doesn’t hurt anyone,” Ronon noted.

“Aye, probably,” Beckett agreed. “We’d have to time it carefully to have time to switch back to the cloak and get away, but I suppose it could work.”

“It’s a place to start, anyway,” Hogan nodded. “We’ll let McKay and Zelenka hash out the details.”

After chatting a bit longer about their cover story and how to handle Klink, Beckett led Hogan, Ronon, and Teyla to the door and called for Schultz.

“ _Ja, Herr Doktor?_ ” Schultz replied.

“Sergeant, I understand there are several guests staying here,” Beckett began.

Schultz nodded. “ _Ja_ , Col. Pungenhorst and the Russian woman are in the VIP quarters, and Col. Schäfer, Dr. Zelenka, and Dr. McKay are in that tent outside the fence.”

“Would you please bring Col. Pungenhorst and Col. Schäfer to Col. Klink’s office? I’d rather not have to explain this more than once.”

“At once, _Herr Doktor_.”

“Doctor, I can fetch Col. Pungenhorst if the sergeant can show me where they are,” Teyla offered.

“Aye, that would save a bit o’ time,” Beckett agreed.

Schultz pointed out the VIP quarters to her, and they both left. Watching them go, Beckett looked out across the compound, and his breath caught for a moment as an emotional flashback hit. He didn’t know why.

Ronon’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Hey. You okay with this?”

Beckett took a deep breath and let it out again, then nodded. “Aye. Michael’s labs were nothing like this.”

“Still....”

Blue eyes looked up into brown eyes, and something unspoken passed between the former runner and the former prisoner. Ronon gave Beckett’s shoulder a supportive squeeze, and Beckett squeezed Ronon’s wrist in return.

“Thank you,” Beckett whispered.

Ronon just smiled and patted his shoulder once more for good measure.

Beckett squared his shoulders. “Right. Let’s get this over with.”

And together he and Ronon marched into Klink’s office just as Teyla arrived with Marya and Pungenhorst. Hogan was already waiting, and Schultz arrived with Sheppard and Zelenka while Klink was still making introductions. 

“Col. Schäfer does not speak English,” Zelenka explained as he shook hands with Beckett. “Dr. McKay did not think he could explain the medical terms to him.”

While Teyla had her diplomatic-mission face on, Ronon decided not to make eye contact with Sheppard any more than necessary. He knew they’d give themselves away if he didn’t glower at every German in the room, including his disguised commander.

“Now, Doctor,” Klink said, “please tell us what you’ve found.”

“There’s only so much I can tell from a spinal tap without sending it to a lab,” Beckett stated, “but I’m afraid it _is_ viral meningitis. We’ll need to quarantine the camp to prevent anyone from carrying it into town.”

Klink and Pungenhorst both looked at Zelenka.

“ _Von der Rückenmarksflüssigkeit kann ich nur wenig ohne Laborwerte feststellen_ ,” Zelenka translated, “ _aber leider ist es doch Viralhirnhautentzündung_. _Wir müssen das Stalag unter Quarantäne stellen, damit niemand das Virus ins Hammelburg trägt_.”

Pungenhorst gulped and paled.

Klink took a deep breath and let it out again. “ _Hirnhautentzündung_ ,” he repeated. “Would you explain the disease to us, Dr. Beckett?”

Beckett surreptitiously kept an eye on Pungenhorst as Zelenka translated his report and noted every gulp, every twitch. He’d seen that kind of reaction before--from McKay. _Our Gestapo friend is a full-blown hypochondriac! Well, we can toy with him a bit, at least...._

“How long will the camp need to be quarantined?” Klink asked when Beckett had finished.

“Probably ten days just to be safe,” Beckett replied. “If we can keep it contained in Barracks 2, we can lift the quarantine sooner, but we probably won’t know the extent of the problem for several more days. The usual incubation period for the virus is three to seven days. O’course, if Carter and Newkirk were infected at the same time, say from dirty shower water, we may start seeing more cases within the next twenty-four hours.”

Pungenhorst frowned. “That prisoner sneezed on me just three hours ago, Doctor. Why am I beginning to feel ill?”

Beckett shrugged. “Just because you’ve been exposed to Sgt. Carter doesn’t mean you’ll actually come down with meningitis as well. You may have picked up something else that’s going around in Berlin. But if you are sick, it’s best that you be isolated as much as possible to prevent your own bug from spreading.”

Klink took another deep breath and turned to the camp map to try to find someplace to put everyone.

“Colonel, could you put my team and the doctor’s team in an empty barracks or the recreation hall?” Sheppard suggested through Zelenka. “Then Marya could have your quarters and Col. Pungenhorst could remain in the VIP quarters.”

Klink looked around at the assembled company. “I suppose so, if Fräulein Emmagan does not object.”

“I have seen front-line duty, Colonel,” Teyla stated proudly. “I do not mind sleeping in the same room with men.”

“Actually, now that I think of it...” Klink checked the map again. “Yes, Barracks 4 is empty, and that has separate officers’ quarters. Fräulein Emmagan may choose to sleep in there.”

“That is an admirable solution,” Teyla replied, bowing her head in agreement. “Is that also acceptable to you, Col. Schäfer?”

Sheppard waited for Zelenka’s translation before similarly bowing his own head.

“Any objections, Hogan?” Klink asked.

Hogan sighed. “It is technically against the Geneva Convention, but I don’t suppose we have much choice.”

“Excellent!” Klink grinned, clearly relieved. “Schultz, escort Col. Pungenhorst back to the VIP quarters and send Langenscheidt to prepare Barracks 4.”

Schultz snapped to attention. “ _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_. At once.”

“We should check the other barracks now,” Beckett declared. “If Col. Hogan could show us around?”

“Yes, yes, carry on,” Klink nodded.

“We should go back to work also,” Zelenka stated. “It will not take us long to have your quarters ready for Marya to move in.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” Klink was clearly ready for everyone to be out of his office.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the guards, Marya softly asked Beckett, “Is Pungenhorst contagious?”

“He is _now_ ,” Beckett replied. “But so long as ye didnae kiss him after roll call this morning, you should be fine.” And he gave her the briefest of winks.

Marya huffed in relief and hurried after Schultz and Pungenhorst.

“Does Barracks 4 have a tunnel entrance?” Teyla whispered to Hogan as they made their way to Barracks 1.

Hogan grimaced. “No.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, mono, flu, and viral meningitis all have similar symptoms--high fever, fatigue, and body aches are common to all three, and sneezing and coughing can occur with any of them. The stiff neck connected with meningitis wouldn’t be hard to fake if the Germans got too close, and although a true diagnosis of viral meningitis would require several lab tests, Beckett would theoretically be able to tell that something was wrong because the spinal fluid would be cloudy. “Phtheezles” comes from the poem “Sneezles” in _Now We Are Six_ by A. A. Milne.
> 
> SGA notes: When Sateda was destroyed, Ronon was captured by the Wraith and forced to become a runner--the Wraith implanted a tracking device in his back, turned him loose, and hunted him throughout the galaxy for seven years. Team Sheppard rescued him at the beginning of Season 2. Midway was a space station that formed the keystone of the intergalactic Stargate bridge constructed during SGA Season 3. Dr. Lee was in charge of it from its completion at the beginning of Season 4 to its destruction late that same season. After Atlantis was overwhelmed with a Kirsan fever epidemic in “Tabula Rasa,” Stargate Command ordered a 24-hour quarantine at Midway for all travelers from Pegasus to prevent exotic diseases from being carried back to Earth.
> 
> The locations of the Stalags in _Hogan’s Heroes_ are entirely fictional. There was a real Stalag 13 (Stalag Luft XIII C) outside the real town of Hammelburg in Bavaria, but the show moves both camp and town to the Düsseldorf area. “Klink’s Old Flame” locates Stalag 4 in France, but by October 1944 very little of France was still in German hands, and though the Allies encountered stiff resistance throughout October, they had reached the German border before the Battle of the Bulge.
> 
> SGC: Stargate Command  
>  _Morbus horrens_ = shuddering sickness (Latin)  
>  _Caelgirith_ = shuddering sickness (Sindarin)  
>  _Dobre_ = good (Czech)


	6. Elevating Medicine to Actual Science

Beckett did not take the scanner with him to the other barracks; the chance that the virus had spread beyond Barracks 2 was miniscule, and the risk of discovery was too great. Instead, as Hogan waited outside each door, Beckett explained the situation and asked for a few volunteers to be “sick” to lend credence to the cover story. The men were only too happy to comply.

One wiseacre in Barracks 15 sidled up to Teyla and said he wouldn’t mind volunteering if the pretty nurse didn’t mind taking care of him. Teyla knocked him down with a single punch, and Ronon threw him onto a bunk and pinned him there.

“Ronon,” Beckett said with a wry smile, “if ye break him, I’ll have to fix him.”

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Ronon grumbled.

“I do not believe Col. Hogan would be pleased to hear of the private’s remarks,” Teyla stated cooly.

“I don’t think they need to be repeated--by _anyone_ ,” the barracks leader replied with a pointed look at Ronon’s prisoner. “ _Right_?”

“R-r-right,” stammered the man in question.

None too gently, Ronon released him and stood up. “Y’know, Doc, he does look sick.”

Beckett’s eyes glittered with amusement as he watched the private watching him and growing paler the longer Beckett rubbed his chin and held his doctor-pondering-torture expression. “Aye,” he finally said, “probably with a dangerously high fever--delirious, possibly having seizures. Sergeant, do you have any rope?”

Hogan had no idea why the three Lanteans were fighting giggles when they came out until he caught a glimpse of Pvt. Cochrane attached to his bunk with clothesline tied with... medical precision. He looked questioningly at Beckett as the door closed.

“Delirious,” Beckett said, looking innocent. “There are two hundred men in this camp; I can’t spare Ronon to keep one man restrained.”

Hogan smiled knowingly and led the way to the next barracks.

By lunchtime, Beckett had collected a dozen names of additional “patients.” He met with Klink after lunch to go over his findings, probable causes, how to clean up the camp, and what to do when the quarantine was lifted to disinfect the barracks. They had just about concluded their discussion when Langenscheidt poked his head in.

“ _Entschuldigung, Herr Kommandant, Herr Doktor_ ,” Langenscheidt said worriedly, “but Col. Pungenhorst has been taken seriously ill and requests that Dr. Beckett examine him at once.”

Beckett took a deep breath and let it out again. “Right. I’m on my way.”

Now, Beckett had never been opposed to treating the enemy; for him, the Hippocratic Oath was absolutely binding, no matter who or what was in need of help. But he found he had to restrain himself when it came to Pungenhorst. The man reminded him far too much of Michael, his half-Wraith tormentor, even without the fact that Pungenhorst was Gestapo and had been one part of the sorrow of the Zelenkas.

“What’s wrong with me, Doctor?” Pungenhorst demanded as Beckett scrubbed his hands with carbolic soap in the bathroom after his examination.

“Well, it’s _not_ meningitis. I’ve not seen the tremors before with the flu, but it’s probably naught more serious than that.” Beckett shut off the water and selected a clean hand towel.

“Are you saying you don’t know what it is?!”

“I’m saying we don’t need to be worried about it yet.” Beckett came back into the bedroom and began packing his medical bag. “Your lungs sound clear, so for the moment, there’s no reason to suspect a bacterial infection. All we can do is keep the fever down with aspirin and wait it out. You just rest. We’ll add you to the rounds.”

“Don’t... don’t go, Doctor,” Pungenhorst pleaded as a wave of tremors began.

“I’m here to treat a meningitis epidemic, not to be your bloody personal physician, Colonel,” Beckett said sternly and left.

Ronon had just come up onto the porch when Beckett slammed the door behind him and reeled as another flashback hit. The Satedan braced the Scot until the moment passed.

“Thank you, big man,” Beckett whispered.

“You sure you’re okay, Doc?”

“Aye.”

Ronon looked at him closely. “It’s time for your shot, isn’t it?”

Beckett sighed wearily. “I suppose it is.”

“C’mon.” Ronon gently herded him back to Barracks 4. 

* * *

Thursday morning, Beckett felt considerably better and Pungenhorst felt considerably worse. The fever was proving to be impervious to aspirin and was pushing past 104. Beckett turned off the heat, banked the fire in the stove, and had Klink detail a guard to keep closer watch on Pungenhorst than his scheduled rounds would allow. “I’ll not neglect two hundred men to keep one supplied with cold compresses, and I’ll not have my nurses exposed to an exotic virus and possibly spreading it all over the camp,” he stated firmly when Klink tried to wheedle him into giving more attention to Pungenhorst.

“Do you know what kind of virus he has?” Klink asked.

Beckett shook his head. “Not without a blood test. It’s not one I’ve encountered in Europe, though it may be the sort of thing he could have picked up overseas years ago and have it dormant in his system all this time. I’m afraid viruses are still pretty poorly understood. The high fever is what makes me think it’s not flu; flu fevers can get up to 104, but I’ve a feeling it’s not peaked yet. I think the tremors could be a result of the fever affecting his nervous system, but I can’t be certain.”

Klink nodded, clearly worried. “How are the prisoners?”

“Three new cases in Barracks 9, but Sgt. Wilson seems to be handling things well there. Only the one dangerously high fever in Barracks 15, and no complications yet that I can see.”

Klink sighed. “Thank you, Doctor.” 

* * *

By dinnertime on Friday, McKay and Zelenka had a firm enough handle on the remaining repairs to the Jumper and the time drive to have run a final plan for the lab assault by Sheppard. The one remaining problem they discussed on their way to the officers’ mess was how to get the information to Hogan, since Barracks 4 had no tunnel entrance and Hogan had told Beckett not to jeopardize his cover by staying in Barracks 2 longer than his rounds would normally take.

“I guess it makes most sense for us to go down through the emergency tunnel,” Sheppard shrugged.

“Yes, but how will Hogan know to meet us?” Zelenka frowned.

“We stage an argument,” McKay suggested. “Tempers are getting short, right? So nobody’s gonna think twice if you and I blow up at each other and I go out to the Jumper alone. You and Sheppard come out a few minutes later after we’ve all supposedly calmed down.”

Then Cpl. Hinkelman served him Wienerschnitzel instead of the Jägerschnitzel McKay had ordered and seemed not to understand _allergisch gegen Zitronen_ even when Zelenka said it, which made McKay genuinely grumpy. Sheppard’s joining Zelenka in softly humming “Vergammelte Speisen,” on the harmony no less, didn’t help.

After dinner, Zelenka and McKay had a spectacular multi-lingual argument in the middle of the compound while Sheppard rolled his eyes and threw in a sarcastic comment on occasion--though not, it must be said, in his usual semi-slouch, but standing imperiously like the Luftwaffe officer he was supposed to be. McKay gesticulated rather more wildly than usual before stomping off toward the Jumper while Zelenka stomped off to Barracks 4, swearing heatedly in Czech. Sheppard snorted and followed Zelenka.

All three of them had seen the periscope in their peripheral vision. They knew Hogan had gotten the message.

And sure enough, Hogan, LeBeau, and Kinch met McKay in the radio room five minutes later. Seated at the radio table, McKay had the lab schematics pulled up on the tablet in front of him and was sketching a hard copy on Kinch’s clipboard.

“Dr. McKay,” Hogan said by way of greeting. “What do you have for us?”

“This,” McKay said slowly as he finished the sketch, “is a floor plan of the lab.” He set down pencil and clipboard, turned the tablet to the prisoners so that they could see more clearly, and manipulated the 3D image with the stylus. “Now, from what Teyla and Ronon described, the actual door is up here. There’s obviously some kind of staircase or hatch leading down into the main room, but it doesn’t show on the sensors. The ventilators appear to lead into these rooms.” He traced probable shafts. “But from the radiation readings, the uranium or plutonium or whatever they’re using is probably stored here.” He pointed to one of the deepest rooms in the small facility that did not have a direct connection to a ventilator shaft.

Hogan frowned at the computer. “Carter didn’t think we could stuff enough grenades down the ventilators to do much damage.”

McKay shook his head. “No, and it won’t be easy to get anything through the door, either. Carter said it looked like a cellar door, and it’s probably made of lead and concrete if the people who built the place are as smart as they appear. C-4 could probably blow the door open, but it wouldn’t give us time to get in, plant the second bomb, and get out before the Gestapo showed up.”

LeBeau was clearly having some trouble keeping up with the speed at which McKay was talking, but Hogan and Kinch nodded. “What’s C-4?” Kinch asked.

“Oh, uh, plastic explosive, hasn’t been invented yet.” McKay waved his hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter--bad idea to use that anyway. So pretty much our only other option is to use one drone to blow open the door and send a second drone to blow up the lab. We should be able to get it down into the room where the radioactive material is, but even if we can’t, the explosion should take out the whole facility.”

“Ronon said something about using the shield to block radiation,” Hogan noted.

“Yes, and he’s right,” McKay nodded. “We’d need to lower the cloak anyway to be able to fire the drones, but we don’t need to expose the town to the radiation, and there’s no guarantee that the rockfall will be enough to keep the area from being irradiated. So what we can do is to use the shield to block the radiation from coming to the surface long enough to be safe. There is the risk that we’ll be seen, but if we can get it done before moonrise, we might get away with it.”

Kinch sighed. “Sunset’s around 1800. Dunno about moonrise; it’ll depend on what day we go. But that’ll probably mean going out right after dinner, maybe even before.”

“How about Sunday?” McKay suggested. “We should be good to go by then. I mean, the time drive won’t be ready yet, but we’ll have the Jumper repaired.”

Kinch found an almanac in the desk and checked times for Hohenstaufen. “Sunset’s 1746, moonrise is 2223. Half moon is Monday... sunset then is 1744, moonrise is 2319.”

Hogan shook his head. “We shouldn’t wait any longer than we have to. We have no way of knowing how far along they are.”

“Moonrise on Sunday is 10:23,” McKay repeated to himself. “If we want to be certain we get past the guards here, we’ll need to be back well before then. Took us an hour to get there, an hour back, allow enough time to leave the shield in place....” His fingers snapped almost of their own accord. “We’d need to leave here by 7 just to be safe.”

Hogan nodded. “Sunday at 7. They don’t change the guard until 9, but we can find some kind of cover story. Be easiest if it’s just you, Sheppard, and Zelenka supposedly working on the Jumper.”

“That makes sense,” McKay agreed.

“What about us?” Sheppard asked as he and Zelenka entered from the emergency tunnel, having heard only the last sentence.

Hogan repeated his conclusion.

“Yes, I think we can do that,” Zelenka stated.

Sheppard bit his lip and nodded.

“Something wrong, _Colonel_ Sheppard?” LeBeau asked.

“I dunno,” Sheppard shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just keep waiting for something else to go wrong.”

Hogan looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Marya’s been too well behaved.”

“I guess that’s it. She just reminds me too much of Todd.” At the prisoners’ questioning look, he explained, “Todd’s a Wraith--ah, enemy alien species, feed on humans. Only this one likes me. Sometimes. When he thinks we can help him.”

“He _has_ given us valuable intel _and_ assistance before,” McKay noted.

“But only when it suits his purposes,” Zelenka returned.

“And things _always_ go sideways when he’s involved,” Sheppard concluded.

“Yep, that sounds like Marya,” Kinch nodded.

“Well, don’t tell her anything,” Hogan sighed. “She’ll probably guess, but we may as well play it safe.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheppard replied.

Hogan checked his watch. “We’d better get back upstairs. Thank you, gentlemen.”

“Sir.” Sheppard saluted.

“I _can_ think of one difference between Marya and Todd,” Zelenka admitted as the Lanteans went back to the Jumper.

“What’s that?” Sheppard asked.

“Marya has a heart.”

Sheppard smiled wryly and patted Zelenka on the back.

* * *

The mood was sour in the NCO club Saturday evening, and the more so the more beers were consumed. A number of the guards had been scheduled to go on leave, which made the quarantine irksome enough, but several of those had family alarmingly close to the front lines and were now unable to go check on them. And more than one was cut off from his wife.

“I know,” Cpl. Wolfschmidt said suddenly. “Let’s have some fun with that pretty little nurse.”

Several of the other young corporals murmured their agreement, including some unprintable comments about her body and ethnicity.

Schultz, who was still mostly sober, set down his beer with a bang. “ _No_ , Wolfschmidt.”

“What about that bodyguard of hers?” Sgt. Richter asked, ignoring Schultz. “He watches her like a brother.”

Wolfschmidt snorted. “He’s no match for the master race. Besides, it’ll be easy enough to catch her alone.”

“She looks almost as strong as him,” observed Cpl. Grimsel.

“Good,” Cpl. Schweinhardt leered. “I like a woman with spirit.”

Langenscheidt shook his head vehemently. “No, no, this is wrong.”

Wolfschmidt threw his beer in Langenscheidt’s face. “Stay out of this. You coming, Richter?”

“No, not tonight,” Richter decided. “The quarantine will last long enough for me to take my turn.” And he took a long, suggestive drag on his cigar while the corporals laughed.

“Wolfschmidt, I order you to stay away from Fräulein Emmagan!” Schultz thundered.

“You’re off duty!” Wolfschmidt roared, staggering to his feet. “Come on, boys.”

Not recognizing or stopping to question the _non sequitur_ , Schweinhardt, Grimsel, and two other corporals joined Wolfschmidt on his way out the door. They were outside before Schultz could get across the room to be a one-man roadblock. But block the door he did, and the handful of other men who had started to follow Wolfschmidt knew better than to try to stare the big toymaker down. They backed away and went back to their seats.

Langenscheidt ran up to Schultz. “Sergeant, what should we do?!”

Schultz put a hand on his favorite subordinate’s shoulder. “Where is Col. Schäfer, Karl?”

“In the barracks, I think.”

“Go. I will get the commandant.” He moved aside, and Langenscheidt ran out. “Hauschild, you guard the door. And all of you! _Anybody_ who leaves this building before I return goes to the Russian Front!”

Sgt. Hauschild, a tough older man who had served with Schultz for a time in World War I, locked the door behind his friend and held his machine gun ready, practically daring anyone to challenge Schultz’s order.

* * *

Teyla said good night to the men of Barracks 2 and latched the door behind her. She turned around to see five guards coming toward her. Warily but casually, she began walking toward Barracks 4, but she had not yet reached Barracks 3 before they caught up with her and surrounded her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked the man in front of her evenly.

He replied in German, but she didn’t need a translator to recognize the look on his face. He reached for her, and she grabbed his wrist.

“Let. Me. Pass.”

He laughed, and she broke his nose.

* * *

Sheppard had just finished shining his boots when Ronon walked in. “Where’s Teyla?” Sheppard asked.

“One of the guys in Barracks 10 needed her to take something to LeBeau,” Ronon shrugged. “She’ll be back in a minute.”

Sheppard nodded and frowned.

“What?”

“Something doesn’t feel right.” Sheppard started pulling on his boots. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

“Won’t that look suspicious?” McKay asked, looking up from the calculations he and Zelenka were going over. “You’re not even supposed to speak English.”

“So I pretend I’m going for a walk and happen to wander past Barracks 2 just as she’s coming out,” Sheppard shrugged, tugging on his boot. He stood and stamped his heel a couple of times, then pulled on his coat and cap. “If I’m not back in five minutes, Ronon, come after us.”

“Right,” Ronon nodded.

Just then Langenscheidt burst through the door. Sheppard could barely make out his panicked words, but there were two phrases that even Ronon knew: “ _Hilfe_ ” and “Fräulein Emmagan.”

Sheppard and Ronon were out the door before Langenscheidt had finished speaking. The three doctors were only seconds behind, and Langenscheidt ran after them.

“Don’t shoot unless you have to,” Beckett cautioned McKay and Zelenka as they ran, handguns at the ready.

Teyla was holding her own when they arrived, but it was clear she was about to need help. Grimsel ducked a kick only to be grabbed from behind and spun to face a furious Ronon. A left to the head, a right to the stomach, and a shove to the back of the neck flipped him over and left him sprawled on his back, too winded to rise. Ronon then kicked the broken-nosed guard in the gut in mid-jump and landed with a mighty blow on the other Teyla shoved toward him. Sheppard flung Schweinhardt against the wall of Barracks 3, then leveled him with a punch to the head. By the time Wolfschmidt realized he was alone, he was also surrounded. He raised his hands in surrender, and the Lanteans with guns lowered their weapons.

“ _DUMMKOPF!_ ” Sheppard yelled, grabbing Wolfschmidt by the collar. “ _Soll ein deutschen Soldat sich so verhalten?!_ ”

“ _Nein, Herr Oberst_ ,” Wolfschmidt squeaked.

Sheppard shoved Wolfschmidt away from him. Zelenka and Langenscheidt pulled the other corporals to their feet and dragged them to stand beside Wolfschmidt, while Beckett and Ronon flanked Teyla in silent support and Sheppard mentally composed a tirade that would keep him in character. His teammates had seldom seen John Sheppard in a truly towering rage, but they were not at all surprised at the fury he unleashed on the corporals, knowing that he spoke for all of them. Klink and Schultz, arriving too late to be of help, could only stare.

For all his laid-back Irish charm, McKay thought idly about halfway through the rant, Sheppard played German aristocracy frighteningly well.

Finally, Sheppard stopped shouting and glanced over at Klink. “Your commandant will assign your punishment,” he said in German in a low, dangerous voice. “But I assure you, were you under my command and were we not under quarantine, you would be on the first train to Warsaw-- _if_ I didn’t shoot you myself.”

Schweinhardt actually whimpered.

“I am terribly sorry, Fräulein Emmagan,” Klink stated in English. “These men will be severely punished, I assure you.”

Teyla simply nodded her acceptance.

Marya had run out of Klink’s quarters by this time, thinking to offer her support to Teyla, and had just stopped beside Schultz when Sheppard turned to Teyla. Though their eyes met very briefly and Teyla’s nod to him was barely perceptible, Marya could see _something_ pass between the American and the Athosian that spoke of more than general concern. And suddenly she understood Sheppard much better.

Sheppard returned Teyla’s slight nod, nodded more obviously to Marya, and gestured for Klink to come deal with his men. Without a word, the Lanteans followed Sheppard back to Barracks 4.

Klink pulled himself together. “Langenscheidt, take these men to the guardhouse at once. They will remain there until the quarantine has been lifted, at which time they will be transferred....” He paused as inspiration struck. “No, not to Warsaw. To Norway. We’ll see if they feel like making trouble above the Arctic Circle!”

Langenscheidt saluted and hustled the battered corporals to the guardhouse while Klink and Schultz made their way to the NCO club. Suddenly hesitant, Marya wavered a moment, then continued on to Barracks 4. She drew a deep breath before knocking.

Zelenka answered the door. “ _Dobriy vecher, Marya._ ”

“Is Gaspaszha Emmagan all right?” Marya asked in Russian.

Zelenka glanced over his shoulder, and Marya caught a glimpse of Sheppard, McKay, and Ronon holding Teyla in a team hug with Beckett hovering nearby. “We have been through worse,” Zelenka confessed, then added with a wry smile, “but usually our enemies only want to kill us.”

Marya chuckled.

“I will tell her that you called.”

“ _Harasho. Spasiba. Do zavtra_.”

“ _Do zavtra._ ”

_Yes_ , Marya thought as she headed back to Klink’s quarters, _that explains a great deal... a very great deal indeed._

* * *

As if the events in camp the previous evening had not made things tense enough, an overnight air raid on both Hammelburg and Düsseldorf left everyone on edge Sunday morning. And between Sheppard spending his time on work and Pungenhorst being ill, Marya was particularly bored. So she went to Klink with an idea. Klink agreed that it might be amusing, and they went to find the Lanteans. Sheppard, McKay, and Zelenka had gotten a late start for a change, so they had just left the officers’ mess when Klink and Marya found them.

“Good morning, gentlemen!” Klink began in German as they approached. “Fräulein... er....”

“Marya,” Marya shrugged.

“Marya and I were wondering if you might be interested in joining us for dinner tonight in my quarters, possibly play a rubber or two of bridge... say, around 7?”

The Lanteans exchanged a look but managed to conceal their alarm.

“That’s very kind of you, Col. Klink,” Sheppard replied, “but we had planned to finish our repairs tonight, possibly even take a test flight.”

“But Hansie...” Marya pouted.

“Colonel, even if we complete the repairs tonight, we cannot leave until the quarantine is lifted,” Zelenka observed in a tone he usually reserved for news like the ZPM being depleted.

Sheppard looked at Marya and sighed. She _was_ supposed to be his old flame, and he _had_ been avoiding her. “Perhaps if the doctor agrees that it is safe for us all to spend so much time together.”

McKay looked around and caught Beckett’s eye as he came out of Barracks 2, then motioned him toward them.

“Aye, Dr. McKay, what can I do for you?” Beckett asked.

“Marya was wondering if it would be safe for us all to have dinner and play cards in Klink’s quarters tonight,” McKay replied in English.

Beckett thought for a moment and found no ready excuses. “I don’t see why not.”

“Well, Klink’s personal chef is one of the prisoners from Barracks 2, Cpl. LeBeau.”

Beckett shook his head. “No, that’s out o’ the question. LeBeau’s been tending to Carter and Newkirk, and even though they’re on the mend today, it’s too soon to say for sure that he’s not caught the virus from them.”

“So we get Hinkelman from the officers’ mess,” Marya shrugged.

McKay grimaced.

“Perhaps you would care to join us, Doctor?” Klink asked.

“If I’m not needed elsewhere,” Beckett agreed, his reluctance obvious only to the other Lanteans.

“You will invite Col. Hogan, too, Klink?” Marya said.

Now it was Klink’s turn to hesitate briefly. “Yes, of course.”

Marya slapped him on the back. “Marvelous! Then I shall go and talk to Hinkelman. _Tschüssi_!”

Sheppard swore softly as soon as Klink and Marya were out of earshot. “There goes the plan. Even if they were well enough, Carter and Newkirk don’t have the ATA gene. And even if Hogan does, he’ll be stuck here with us.”

“I can make excuses for Teyla and Ronon,” Beckett stated, “but we’ll still need a pilot. I didn’t bring any of the gene therapy with me.”

Sheppard shook his head. “Even if you had, it would be a bad idea.”

McKay thought for a moment, snapping his fingers. “There’s a life-signs detector in the tunnel, in my tac vest. Hand that around, see if anyone else has the gene naturally.”

“Aye,” Beckett nodded.

The Lanteans separated as casually as possible. Beckett made his way to Barracks 5 and thence to the tunnel, retrieved the life-signs detector, and checked all fifteen men in Barracks 5 to no avail. Barracks 3, 6, and 9 were also devoid of gene carriers. He was just about to go to Barracks 12 when Teyla and Ronon caught up with him, and he explained the situation.

Ronon thought for a moment. “What do we know about the natural gene carriers in Atlantis?”

Beckett shrugged. “They’re in all modes of service, all ranks, from all countries.”

Teyla caught Ronon’s drift. “Yes, but do they not also strike you as natural leaders, whatever their station may be? Not that it is solely a quality of the gene, but if you think of John, Evan, Miko, you....”

Beckett blinked and looked immediately at Barracks 2.

“That’s where I’d start,” Ronon nodded.

“Aye, and I think I know who to test first.” Beckett gave Ronon a grateful pat on the arm and hurried off to test his hunch.

Hogan and Kinch were talking outside Hogan’s office when Beckett came in. “What can I do for you, Doctor?” Hogan asked.

“Just a quick test,” Beckett replied and explained the problem. Then he held out his medical bag to Hogan. “Now, there’s a piece of technology in here a little larger than a prescription notepad. Would you take it out, please?”

Hogan shrugged and fished the life-signs detector out of the bag. The screen was blank.

“Hand it to Kinch, now.”

Hogan complied. As soon as Kinch touched the device, the screen flared to life.

Hogan stared. “What did you just do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kinch frowned. “It just... came on.”

Beckett grinned. “Aye. You’ve the gene.”

“So Kinch is the only other person in camp who can fly the Jumper?” Hogan asked.

“Of the people we’ve tested, aye.”

“Doc, I’m not a trained pilot,” Kinch stated nervously. “I’m just the radio man.”

“Don’t worry, Sergeant,” Beckett returned, taking the life-signs detector back from him. “The Jumper will respond to you naturally, and Teyla and Ronon will talk you through what you need to do to accomplish the mission. But if I can do it--aye, if _Rodney_ can do it, so can you. He’s supposed to be the smartest man in two galaxies, but when it comes to the Jumper, he’s a wee bit thick.”

Hogan looked at his chief of staff. “I’m not sure, but I think I’m jealous.”

“Schultz!” cried Olsen, who was watching the door.

Beckett stuffed the life-signs detector back into his bag and pretended to be finishing an examination on Kinch as Schultz came in. “Oh, hullo, Sergeant,” he said over his shoulder.

“Excuse me, _Herr Doktor_ ,” Schultz replied. “But you are needed immediately in the VIP quarters. Col. Pungenhorst has gotten worse, and he is coughing up blood.”

“Aye, o’course,” Beckett frowned.

Schultz escorted Beckett to the VIP quarters, where Klink and Marya were waiting outside with very worried faces. Stepping just inside the doorway, Beckett took one look at the coughing figure on the bed and started calculating. It had now been four days since Carter sneezed on Pungenhorst. The virus had as short a period of contagion as it did of incubation and should have run its course, meaning that Pungenhorst could be released from the quarantine without spreading the Pegasus bug. But the sound of his cough and the gobs of bloody phlegm he was coughing up probably meant pneumonia, which in 1944 was still more or less a death sentence as a flu complication. Beckett couldn’t use modern antibiotics without jeopardizing the timeline, and in the few cases of _morbus horrens_ that had moved into pneumonia, all the signs had pointed to it being viral pneumonia anyway. Of course, that cough sounded enough like the respiratory failure he’d seen with the Hoffan drug, and since he had had to admit that this wasn’t actually the flu....

“It looks like respiratory distress,” he said aloud. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital right away.”

“There’s no room at the hospital,” Klink fretted. “I called them after I sent Schultz to get you. They’re flooded with wounded from yesterday’s bombing, and the flu is running rampant in town.”

“A rest camp, then. He’s got to get better care than we can give him here. He’ll die if he stays.”

“Otto!” Marya wailed and made a show of trying to run to the bedside.

Beckett made an equally dramatic show of stopping her. “No, lass, ye cannae help him. He needs oxygen, possibly an iron lung. Colonel, will ye call for an ambulance?”

“Yes, of course,” Klink replied and hurried away.

The private who had been attending Pungenhorst stepped into the bathroom and out of sight. Beckett gently steered Marya out of the room, though both of them paused in the doorway to shoot a final venomous look at Pungenhorst. It was Pungenhorst’s last sight of Stalag 13 before another coughing fit sent him into an exhausted sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suspect that if most German soldiers considered the Eastern Front a fate worse than death, being sent to the Scandinavian portion thereof would be worse yet. The occupation of Norway lasted until the end of the war, but the Russians were already pushing past the Finnish border in October of '44.
> 
> The Zero Point Module, or ZPM (or ZedPM, if you're Rodney) is a power source that draws vacuum energy from subspace. Atlantis is designed to run on three of them, though for most of the series the expedition has had at best one, which is enough to power the city's defenses and make short scheduled dialouts to Earth.
> 
> _Allergisch gegen Zitronen_ = allergic to lemons (German)  
>  _Soll ein deutschen Soldat sich so verhalten?!_ = Is this how a German soldier ought to act?! (German)  
>  _Dobriy vecher_ = Good evening (Russian)  
>  _Harasho. Spasiba._ _Do zavtra_. = Great. Thank you. Until tomorrow. (Russian)  
>  _Tschüssi_ = Toodles (German)


	7. Bloody Aluminium Cooking Pots!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks for this chapter go to [](https://deana-l.livejournal.com/profile)[**deana_l**](https://deana-l.livejournal.com/) , who gave me some very sound suggestions when I was most grievously stuck. Mild spoilers for SGA "Tabula Rasa," and a few references to "There and Back Again."

Newkirk leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as he savored the feeling of chicken soup trickling down his throat. LeBeau made wonderful chicken soup, hearty and filling without being too heavy, and it was almost worth getting sick just to be able to sit back and really enjoy it. The hot liquid warmed him nicely against the autumn chill that the barracks walls could not keep at bay, and the steam eased his breathing as he inhaled the comforting aroma.

_Yes_ , he thought as he gingerly lifted his mug for another mouthful, _if there's one good thing about being ill, it's LeBeau's chicken soup_.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" LeBeau fretted at his elbow.

Newkirk nodded as he swallowed his mouthful of soup. "Yes, I'm fine, Louis," he replied huskily. "Just have to rest a bit between sips is all."

Carter finished his soup with a satisfied sigh. "That was good, Louis. Thanks."

LeBeau hopped down from his perch on Hogan's footlocker and took Carter's mug. "You want some more, André?"

Carter shook his head. "Not right now, thanks. Maybe after my next nap."

"Okay." LeBeau set the mug on Hogan's desk and helped Carter lie down again.

The outside door closed, followed by a murmur of greeting, and Beckett walked into Hogan's office. "Hullo, lads. Glad to see you both awake!"

"Not for long," Carter retorted with a tired smile.

Beckett chuckled. "I'll not be long, son, I promise." He retrieved the scanner from Hogan's wardrobe and scanned both patients. "Aye, definite improvement. And both o'ye have a bit of color back, as well. LeBeau, let's have that window open, let some fresh air in here."

" _Oui_ _d'accord_ ," LeBeau replied and opened the window as Beckett stowed the scanner again.

"Say, Doctor, did I 'ear right that Pungenhorst's at death's door?" Newkirk asked.

"Aye," Beckett nodded. "The virus hit him much harder than it hit either of you, and now it's gone into pneumonia. We just sent him off to a rest camp--apparently the hospitals are full up."

The prisoners made noises of false sympathy.

"Think he'll recover?" Carter asked.

Beckett looked around furtively. "I wouldn't normally say this, but... I hope not."

Carter chuckled. "Guess my first attempt at germ warfare worked pretty well."

The others all laughed, and Beckett patted him on the shoulder.

"So we're all out of the woods, then?" Newkirk asked before taking another mouthful of soup.

"Aye, though I can't tell Klink that," Beckett said with a grin. "You'll probably be a bit weak still for a few more days, but the virus has done its worst, and nobody else in the barracks has come down with it."

" _M. le docteur_ has stage-managed an epidemic," LeBeau reported. "M. Dex told me that Cochrane in Barracks 15 got especially into his part."

Beckett laughed. "He got fresh with Teyla, so Ronon and I tied him to his bunk and told Klink his fever made him dangerous. O'course, they let him up when they needed to, but come roll call Thursday morning, the guard walked further into the room than he should have, and Cochrane started screaming and convulsing like he really was delirious--very nearly broke the bunk. The guard was so scared, he's taken head counts from the window ever since."

Carter and Newkirk laughed.

"Speakin' o' Teyla, wot was that bloody racket last night?" Newkirk frowned. "Thought I was 'allucinatin' that tirade o' Col. Sheppard's, but LeBeau says it really 'appened."

"Aye, the guards were bored," Beckett confirmed. "Teyla actually broke one lad's nose, so I had to set it--without anesthetic. I've naught more period-appropriate than morphine, and I'll not waste that on a broken nose."

"Klink's sending them to Norway," LeBeau added.

"Probably deserve it," Carter mumbled.

Beckett smiled grimly, then took a deep breath. "Right, lads, I'll let you rest and get meself some lunch. See you this evening." He patted LeBeau on the shoulder and left.

Carter snuggled deeper under his blanket. "Kinda nice to be able to sleep without the bed shaking," he observed sleepily.

"You're telling me," Newkirk chuckled and drained his mug. "Louis, could I 'ave a drop more soup?"

"Of course, Pierre," LeBeau smiled, taking his mug.

* * *

After lunch, Sheppard let Marya drag him back to Klink's quarters, but all pretense of good will on his part vanished as soon as the door slammed shut behind them. He pushed her away and threw his cap onto the dining table before starting to take off his coat.

"Is anything wrong?" Marya asked with obviously feigned innocence.

"If you _were_ my old flame, that question woulda doused it," Sheppard snarled. "Whose side are you on?"

"You do not trust me!" she whined.

"I never have."

"Darling, _tell_ me, have I ruined something?"

"No, we lucked out, but you came awful close." He threw his coat over a chair.

"You were needed on this mission?"

Sheppard turned to face Marya and narrowed his eyes. "Ideally, yes."

Marya smiled cunningly. "Then _no one_ will connect us with the sabotage."

He blinked.

"Sheppard, _darling_ ," she said with an air of patient explanation. "We could not trust the quarantine to provide us enough of an alibi. Pungenhorst is gone, but the radio truck is still here, and so are his men. One of them might remember your being in the tent when the lab is destroyed, and since no one saw or heard the supposed test flight _last_ week, there would be no evidence that you did not leave the tent again without anyone knowing. _This_ way, if someone _does_ see the airplane, you will all have a solid alibi and the conclusion will be that someone stole it for a joyride. There will not be any evidence connecting even the airplane with the sabotage."

Sheppard inclined his head, frowning as he assessed her claim. The Gestapo goons had so resolutely stuck to the radio detector unit, emerging only for natural necessity, that he had almost forgotten about them. It wasn't likely that any of them had stepped out at an inopportune moment, but there was no way to be absolutely certain. And Marya was so far in the dark about the true nature of the Jumper, her assumptions would be a fair gauge of the goons'. But was she telling the truth about those assumptions or not?

Marya shrugged at his hesitation. "I admit, the dinner party idea was because I was bored. But everyone in camp will know where all of us are."

Sheppard sighed. "Not like we can back out of it now."

Marya laughed, slapped him on the back, and got out the chess board.

* * *

Newkirk was still propped up but dozing lightly when Kinch came in to close the window. He cracked his eyes open and smiled. "'Ello, mate," he said quietly, suspecting that Carter was still asleep.

"Hi," Kinch returned softly, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Newkirk frowned at that. "Kinch? Wot's wrong?"

Kinch sighed and sat down at Hogan's desk. "I have to fly the Puddle Jumper tonight."

"You've got this... gene they keep talkin' about?"

"Yeah. Dr. Beckett hasn't really explained what it is, but apparently I'm the only person in camp who has it and isn't on Marya's radar. Beckett, Sheppard, and McKay all got stuck having dinner with her and Klink. Teyla and Ronon are coming with me, but... I can't help feeling nervous."

"They're sharp, those two. Ronon don't say much, but 'e's no mug, and neither is Teyla. Would've walked right over that lab if they 'adn't gone with us, and run straight into the Gestapo on the way back as well. You'll not go far wrong wi' them."

"Yeah, but... how am I supposed to fly something I've never seen before?"

"Ah." Newkirk held up a finger. "I may be able to 'elp you there."

Slowly and meticulously, he began describing the cockpit of the Jumper, including the controls he saw Sheppard _not_ touch. Kinch took careful notes and made rough sketches for Newkirk to check over. Carter woke up just about the time Newkirk began tiring and added what information he could.

"Dr. McKay said the Jumper can read your mind," Carter concluded. "I don't know how it works, but Ronon and Teyla probably do. It looks easier than flyin' a B-17, anyway."

Kinch took a deep breath, let it out again, and nodded. "Thanks, fellas."

"You'll be fine, mate," Newkirk smiled sleepily.

Kinch left the room, breathed a quiet prayer, and sat down on his bunk to read through the notes again. After the third time through, he prayed again and stuffed the notes into the stove.

* * *

At 6:45, Teyla and Ronon made their way to Barracks 2. Kinch met them in the main room and escorted them down to the tunnel, where Hogan was waiting with their weapons and Teyla's tac vest. Baker and Wilson were there, too, working out a schedule for whom to have manning a listening post under Klink's stove and whom to station in Hogan's office to keep an ear on the Lantean radio. Ronon strapped on his blaster as the sergeants said their farewells and shook hands.

"Col. Sheppard and Dr. McKay are waiting for us in the Jumper," Teyla told Kinch as she slipped the tac vest on. "There will not be time for much of a tutorial, but we hope it will be enough."

Kinch nodded nervously.

"Hey," said Ronon. "I had to talk Sheppard through flying this thing once when he lost his memory. He didn't crash. Neither will you."

Kinch looked at Ronon for a moment and smiled. "Y'know, strange as it sounds, that's actually encouraging. Thanks."

Hogan looked at his watch and sighed. "Guess I'd better head on over to Klink's. Have fun, kids."

"Don't strangle Marya too early, Colonel," Kinch said with a wink.

"Nah, I think I'll let Sheppard do that," Hogan replied, returning the wink.

Teyla and Baker's laugh followed him up the ladder.

Ronon slapped Kinch's shoulder, and the trio made their way to the emergency tunnel exit. Kinch was too nervous to be more than mildly surprised at the appearance of the Jumper, and he didn't need any prompting from Sheppard or McKay to hurry inside. What he was unprepared for was the faint hum in the back of his mind that started as soon as he entered the Jumper.

"That's the Ancient tech reacting to your gene," Sheppard explained without preamble, seeing the look on Kinch's face. "Good sign--you shouldn't have any trouble interacting with the Jumper. C'mon forward."

Taking a deep breath, Kinch walked toward the pilot's seat and breathed a prayer of thanks for Newkirk's eye for detail. The instruments looked almost exactly like the sketch he'd made from Newkirk's description, and he said as much to Sheppard. Sheppard nodded and proceeded to review the controls with him, along with an explanation of how to switch between cloak and shield and how to fire the drones. Ronon and Teyla also listened closely, though Kinch suspected they'd heard the explanations before.

From the co-pilot's seat, McKay finished typing something on his tablet and unhooked the computer from his side of the instrument console. "I've programmed the course to the lab," he reported as he relinquished the seat to Ronon. "You should be good to go."

"Thanks, Doc," Kinch nodded.

Sheppard looked at his watch. "Time for us to go. Good luck, Sergeant."

"Thanks, Colonel. I'll try not to crash," Kinch added with a wry smile as he shook hands with Sheppard.

"We will see that you don't," Teyla replied from the seat behind him, amused.

Sheppard patted Kinch's shoulder, and he and McKay left the Jumper. At Ronon's prompting, Kinch closed the hatch and cloaked the ship; McKay flashed him a thumbs-up when he got around the front, much to Kinch's relief. Sheppard and McKay then made a production of holding the tent flaps open while Kinch flew out.

Only when Kinch became aware that the auto-pilot was taking over and slid his hands off the controls did he feel two supportive hands on his right arm, one male, one female, and a slight sense of approval from the ship itself. "Good job," Ronon was saying.

Kinch blew out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Thanks."

* * *

Baker quietly slid into Hogan's office just before 8. "Sounds like the dinner party's going well," he reported to Newkirk and Carter. "Dr. Beckett's German is kinda shaky, but so far Col. Hogan and Dr. McKay have been able to keep him in the conversation. I think they were just finishing the main course when I left."

The two ill prisoners nodded. "Radio's been quiet so far," Newkirk replied.

Baker sat down at Hogan's desk and pressed the earpiece. "Home Plate to Fledermaus, Home Plate to Fledermaus. Come in, please."

"What do I do?" Kinch's worried voice was barely audible.

"Just speak normally," Teyla answered. "The channel should already be open."

"Right." Kinch cleared his throat nervously and spoke up. "Fledermaus to Home Plate. I read you. Over."

Baker couldn't suppress a smile. "What's your _siniath_ , Fledermaus? Over."

"So far, so good. It's a little strange, but we're fine. Should be approaching _orod_ in... five minutes. Stand by. Over."

"Roger, Fledermaus. Standing by." Baker switched off the microphone. "Didn't think we'd use _that_ code again," he remarked to no one in particular.

Carter sighed. "I hope Professor Tolkien finishes his book soon. I wanna know what happens to those guys."

"So do I, mate," Newkirk agreed, pulling his blankets up to his chin. "So do I."

* * *

There not being enough people at the dinner party for two bridge games and with Beckett beginning to get a headache from trying to keep up with the German conversation, he and McKay took their leave after dessert; Zelenka opted to stay and watch the game. McKay's complaints about the food were audible until he was halfway to Barracks 4.

"McKay complains about everything, Colonel," Sheppard assured Klink as Marya shuffled the cards and Hogan procured drinks and cigars. "Please don't take it personally."

"I had noticed," Klink replied.

"Speaking of complaints, Hansie," Marya asked, "how is Fräulein Emmagan this evening?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Well enough, I think. Don't you, Zelenka?"

"She is a very strong woman," Zelenka agreed as Marya began to deal. "She was shaken last night, of course, but Dr. Beckett and Nurse Dex looked after her. They are very good friends, it seems. I believe she has recovered well."

"I must say she handled herself well in that fight, from what I saw from the barracks," Hogan remarked. "I suppose she's had a lot of practice fighting off idiots."

" _Keiner, der ihr je gesehen hat, hätte das geglaubt: Küssen ist bei ihr nicht erlaubt_ ," Zelenka deadpanned.

Sheppard very nearly choked on his port trying not to laugh. He recovered before Hogan could glare at him, though, and covered with, "I'm only sorry that you will be losing so many men. I know you're already understaffed."

"To tell you the truth," Klink replied without looking up from his cards, "most of those men, especially Richter and Wolfschmidt, were heading for a court-martial or a firing squad anyway. It would only have taken Hochstetter sealing off the camp again for them to cause even worse trouble than this, possibly even harming the prisoners. Wouldn't you say so, Hogan?"

Hogan shot Sheppard a _yes,_ _we're serious_ look and said, "Yeah, they've been pretty edgy since the Allies reached the Siegfried Line. Grimsel was about to go off on Baker a week or two ago; Schultz had to restrain him until Baker could get help."

" _Ach, so_ ," Sheppard sighed. " _Na, dann_ , perhaps the incident will convince the rest of your guards not to let their fears get the better of them. I have to commend Langenscheidt, though. He could have gotten badly hurt had he tried to rescue Fräulein Emmagan on his own."

There were murmurs of agreement all around, and Klink began the bidding.

* * *

Kinch put his hands back on the flight controls as the Jumper began to slow down over Berg Hohenstaufen. Ronon gave careful directions to help him position the ship exactly over the lab.

"Good," Teyla said as they stopped. "Now switch to the shield and expand it to the ground."

Kinch repeated her direction mentally, and before he could move his hands, there was a groaning sort of noise from outside, and the HUD appeared to show that the job was done. At another mental query, the lab schematic that McKay had shown him before appeared, along with an outline of the shield, which was exactly where it needed to be. Kinch then took a deep breath and looked at the door of the lab. _Fire drone there_ , he thought, and a burst of light immediately shot from the left drive pod. A second later, an explosion outside matched the HUD's animation of the drone hitting the door. Kinch reeled briefly from the impact.

But Ronon was watching for life signs on the HUD's periphery. "We got company," he reported. "ETA two minutes."

"Send another drone through the door," Teyla ordered.

_Drone there_ , Kinch thought wildly, still focused on the display but unable to remember which room of the lab contained the radioactive material.

The drone shot through the hole in the door and punched through two walls and a floor before detonating in one of the lower rooms. The result was immediate; radiation levels below the shield spiked, and a crater appeared where the lab had been. Kinch didn't need any prompting to keep the shield pressed over the crater. Teyla, for her part, was keeping an eye on the Ancient sensor readings in one corner of the HUD, while Ronon monitored the approaching Gestapo life signs.

"They're almost in range," Ronon finally growled.

"Fifteen seconds," Teyla stated, keeping a steadying hand on Kinch's arm.

Kinch let fly a silent prayer and braced for he knew not what.

Just as the first report of automatic gunfire reached his ears, Teyla squeezed his arm. "Cloak now!"

_Cloak!_ thought Kinch loudly, and there was the groaning noise again, and the shooting was replaced by startled shouts. _Go!_ he cried, and the Jumper shot toward the stars.

"Slow down!" Ronon barked.

Kinch actually remembered to use the controls under his hands, and the Jumper eased level and slowed to its appointed cruising speed. As his panic subsided, the auto-pilot re-engaged.

Teyla squeezed his arm again. "Well done. Now, can you open the subspace channel again?"

Kinch blinked at the console for a moment and selected the correct button. He then took a deep breath and let it out again before speaking. "Fledermaus to Home Plate. Fledermaus to Home Plate."

There was a click, and Baker's voice replied, "Go ahead, Fledermaus."

" _Pan sylch annen_. _Orod_ _dangen_. _Adtolim_. Over."

Three audible sighs of relief came over the radio. " _Maer_ _siniath_ , Fledermaus."

Another click was followed by McKay's voice. "Fledermaus, this is Athos. We'll be waiting for you."

"Okay, Athos. Thanks. Fledermaus out." Kinch shut off the radio and heaved another sigh of relief as he slumped back in his seat.

Ronon reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "You okay?"

Kinch nodded. "Yeah. Not something I care to do again anytime soon, though."

"I am told that Col. Sheppard had similar moments when he first flew a Jumper into combat," Teyla smiled. "You have done very well so far, Sergeant."

"Took McKay two years to even fly in a straight line," Ronon added.

Kinch chuckled weakly at that.

* * *

The clock was just striking 9 when McKay returned to Klink's quarters. After some pleasant small talk about the state of play--Sheppard and Marya were just about to take their third rubber of the evening, and Hogan found diplomatic ways of not complaining about being partnered with Klink--Zelenka asked whether anything were wrong.

"I think I finally figured out what's wrong with the thermothrockle," McKay replied. "I need your help to check it out, though."

"Isn't it a little late in the evening for that kind of work, Doctor?" Klink frowned.

"We can sleep when we're done," McKay shrugged. "Beckett just made rounds and thinks he can let us go on Tuesday, and I want to be sure we've got plenty of time to finish all the repairs."

Sheppard nodded. "Good idea, McKay. Zelenka, do you mind?"

"Not at all, Colonel," Zelenka answered. "Good night, gentlemen. _Do zavtra, Marya_."

Marya blew him a kiss, and Sheppard attempted to look jealous. McKay said his own farewells, and the two scientists made their way out to the tent.

McKay glanced at his watch as they passed Barracks 2 and the light in Hogan's office flickered three times before going out. "Three minutes," he whispered. "You ready, Radek?"

"Yes," Zelenka nodded, then added impishly, "What is it I am to do again?"

McKay glared, but he couldn't help chuckling.

Once the pair reached the tent, they ducked inside and made some vague mechanical noises by 'fencing' with tools for a minute. Then, at McKay's cue, Zelenka doused the lantern and began swearing loudly in Czech. After a short argument in English and Russian, the two of them called the guards over to hold open the tent so that they could see to relight the lantern. One 'gust of breeze' from the Jumper later, the lantern flared back to life; McKay told the guards to close the tent; and if anyone heard the sound of wood against wood moments later, McKay's cursing of tree stumps and Zelenka's sarcastic remarks about the quality of McKay's vision would have allayed any suspicion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once read a great gapfiller for "Tabula Rasa" that showed exactly how Ronon helped Amnesiac!Sheppard fly back to Atlantis from the mainland. If someone knows which story that is, please mention it in the comments so I can rec it properly.
> 
> _siniath_ = tidings, news (Sindarin, part of the code from "There and Back Again")  
>  _orod_ = mountain (Sindarin--code for "objective")  
>  _Keiner_ _, der ihr je gesehen hat_... = No one who has ever seen her would believe it: Kissing is not permitted with her (German--one word changed from the last two lines of the chorus of "[Küssen Verboten](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5Ackbtn5bU)" by Die Prinzen)  
>  _Pan sylch annen. Orod dangen. Adtolim_. = All potatoes given. Mountain killed. We're coming back. (Sindarin--code for "all bombs delivered, target destroyed")  
>  _Maer siniath_ = Good news (Sindarin) 


	8. And We’re Not Toast

“ _Quarantine?!_ ” roared Maj. Wolfgang Hochstetter from outside the main gate later that night.

Langenscheidt flinched but held his ground inside the gate. “The prisoners have been very sick, _Herr Major_ \--meningitis, the doctor said. No one is allowed in, and Col. Pungenhorst was allowed to leave only because he had to go to the hospital.”

“Doctor?! What doctor?!”

Langenscheidt looked around nervously and barely managed not to sigh in relief as Schultz approached with a sleep-rumpled and very unhappy Beckett in tow. “Here he comes, _Herr Major_.”

“Schultz! Who is this man?” Hochstetter demanded.

“Doctor Beckett, _Herr Major_ ,” Schultz replied. “He is with the Red Cross.”

Beckett had some choice Gaelic words about the Gestapo and more choice Gaelic words about the fact that it was nearly midnight, then added in English, “What part o’ quarantine dinna ye understand, Major?”

Hochstetter’s English was relatively fluent, but Beckett’s Paisley brogue, thickened by exhaustion and annoyance, stumped him. Rather than admit defeat, however, he spat, “What is this about the prisoners being ill?”

“We have had seventeen cases of viral meningitis,” Beckett said slowly and with exaggerated clarity, “and it is too soon to be certain that no one else has contracted the virus. I cannot allow you to enter this camp, Major.”

“Doctor, I have urgent Gestapo business in this camp pertaining to the investigation that brought Col. Pungenhorst here.”

“Then I suggest you try to find out which rest camp he’s gone to and speak to him there--if he’s been stabilized yet. When he left, he sounded like he needed an iron lung.”

Hochstetter snarled. “It is not Col. Pungenhorst I need to speak with.”

“Anyone else ye need to see, ye can speak to through the gate. But ye’ll not set foot inside, do you hear?”

Hochstetter exhaled through his teeth before turning his glare from Beckett to Schultz. “Schultz, has anyone left the camp this evening?”

“ _Nein, Herr Major_ ,” Schultz reported. “Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka went out to the tent to work on the _Pfützespringer_ around 9:00, but everyone else has been confined to the camp.”

“Oh?” Hochstetter looked around until he spotted the tent, where the lantern still glowed.

“That is _classified_ , Hochstetter,” Sheppard’s imperious voice stated in German.

Hochstetter turned back to the gate to see Sheppard emerging from the shadow of the guard box. “And I am the Gestapo.”

Sheppard laughed. “I had this conversation with Pungenhorst already. Some secrets, Major, not even the Gestapo may know.”

“Who is _this_?” Hochstetter demanded of Schultz.

“Oberstleutnant Johann Schäfer, Luftwaffe Intelligence,” Sheppard replied before Schultz could. “And to save you the trouble of asking, the whole camp knows that I spent this evening with my beloved Marya having dinner and bridge with Col. Klink and Col. Hogan.”

“What is going on here?!” Klink demanded as he strode up to the gate.

“KLINK!” Hochstetter yelled. “What are these men doing here?!”

After another five minutes of shouting, interrupted by the arrival of Zelenka to further corroborate alibis, a brief bout of sleep-deprived histrionics from Marya, some highly creative Satedan curses from Ronon, and the exasperated departure of Beckett, Hochstetter finally settled for calling the radio detector crew over to the gate to get their report. They had, of course, intercepted nothing.

“Hochstetter, will you _kindly_ explain the meaning of all this?!” Klink asked.

Hochstetter glared at him. “A vital research project in Hohenstaufen was bombed tonight, and the witnesses are claiming strange lights in the sky over the area. I want to know how the information on the location was passed to London, since none of our radio detectors have intercepted messages there or here.”

Sheppard laughed incredulously. “Major, you place a research project in a hotbed of treason and blame _London_ for its destruction?” He laughed again and went back toward Barracks 4.

“He’s right, Major,” Klink added unnecessarily.

That was too much for Hochstetter. He looked around for an easy target on whom to vent his rage, but none being forthcoming, he cried “ _BAH!!!_ ” and stomped back to his car.

* * *

But Sheppard did not stop at the door to Barracks 4. Neither had Beckett. One of Ronon’s rumblings had actually been a request to both men to check on Kinch. Beckett was genuinely asleep by 10:30 and so had missed the debriefing that had taken place when Sheppard and Hogan returned to their respective barracks at 11:30, but the fact that Kinch had gone straight to his bunk upon their return and fallen asleep within seconds had both Ronon and Teyla worried, as did the fact that he couldn’t be roused for the debrief. It didn’t seem likely that the fast-acting _morbus horrens_ had caught up with him after this many days, but one never knew what other Pegasus bugs might be lurking in the Jumper without the team’s knowledge.

Sheppard slipped into Barracks 2 just as Beckett finished his scan. “Well, Carson?”

Beckett looked over the scan results and shook his head. “Might have a touch o’ the flu--regular flu, that is. His temperature’s slightly elevated. But beyond that? Looks like he’s just worn out from his first brush with Ancient technology.”

Hogan, who was standing at the foot of Kinch’s bunk, and LeBeau, Kinch’s bunkmate, both heaved silent sighs of relief. LeBeau added a quick prayer in French and crossed himself.

“Klink won’t be happy another prisoner’s sick,” Hogan noted. “But at least he knows what to do about a single case of the flu.”

“Yes, and it’s something Wilson can handle,” LeBeau nodded.

“So we’re still good to leave Tuesday?” Sheppard asked as Beckett stood.

“Aye,” Beckett confirmed. “We’ll tell Klink to keep the quarantine in place until Thursday just to be safe, but there’d be no reason for any of the visitors to stay longer.”

“Good. I don’t know how long I can keep Hochstetter off our backs.”

Beckett returned the scanner to its hiding place, and he and Sheppard took their leave.

* * *

Now that the mission was over and the other sources of excitement from the weekend had died down, Monday was positively boring. Klink called Burkhalter first thing to complain about Hochstetter; Burkhalter called Hochstetter and blistered his ear before telling him in no uncertain terms not to come back to Stalag 13 until the quarantine was lifted unless he had actionable intelligence that something was going on. McKay and Zelenka got the time drive repaired and reinstalled. The medical team made perfunctory rounds and reported to Klink that conditions seemed to be improving. Carter and Newkirk felt better enough that Beckett gave them permission to move back to their usual bunks, though that small amount of activity wore them out. Kinch slept through roll call but woke around 11 feeling none the worse for wear, and Beckett confirmed that he did not have the flu after all. That afternoon he managed to disconnect Zelenka’s radio from the coffee pot in record time, and Zelenka was pleasantly surprised to find that no damage had been done to either one. And Sheppard finally beat Marya at chess. She didn’t even pout--much.

The radio detector truck left at dawn Tuesday morning, while Beckett was making his final round of the camp. Marya and Sheppard staged a tearful farewell after breakfast, complete with long, passionate kisses, and she left with Pungenhorst’s driver. Sheppard feigned distress as he went back to Barracks 4, then brushed his teeth for a solid minute and rinsed with mouthwash three times. Teyla and Ronon were highly amused.

“What?” Sheppard frowned. “She had smoker’s breath!”

“So why’d you kiss her?” Ronon jibed.

Sheppard pulled a dignified face. “That, my friend, is called acting.”

The conversation was cut short by the arrival of Zelenka. “Rodney is finishing the diagnostics,” he reported, “but everything looks good so far. We should be ready to leave within... two hours.”

Beckett came in while Zelenka was still speaking. “Great,” he nodded when the Czech finished. “That should give us time to leave the camp and come back through the woods. I’ve told Klink that we’re ready to go, and Hogan said to leave the car where we found it.”

“All right,” Sheppard agreed. “You three take off. I’ll send the guards back into camp.”

The five Lanteans trooped outside and made a show of their farewells. Then Sheppard and Zelenka followed the Red Cross car through the gate and headed out to the tent, dismissing the guards before ducking inside.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” McKay said without looking up as soon as he heard their steps on the Jumper ramp. “We cloak, fly to Cheyenne Mountain, find a safe place to park, and _then_ make our time jumps while we’re stationary. Maybe leave some sort of marker on a tree so we’ll know for sure it worked.”

“We don’t have to be in the air for it to work?” Sheppard frowned.

“No, the Jumper just has to be powered up. It’s not tied to propulsion--or, at least, it’s not tied to propulsion _now_.”

“It should be a much safer way to get home,” Zelenka agreed.

Sheppard shrugged. “Sure. Whatever, as long as it works. I just want to get home before Carson’s injection wears off.”

McKay looked up at him then. “Yeah. Me, too.”

* * *

Two hours, it turned out, was an overestimate. The hour it took for Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon to return and bring the team’s gear up from the tunnel was all the time McKay needed to finish running his tests, so Sheppard, McKay, and Zelenka went back to Klink’s office briefly to take their leave. They then went back to the tunnel to change into their Atlantis uniforms, and all six Lanteans went up to Barracks 2 to say goodbye to Hogan and his men. Carter and Newkirk didn’t shake hands, just to be absolutely safe, but they were both looking considerably healthier, and Beckett said so.

“I have to admit,” Hogan said, “that I’m a little worried now what London will say the _next_ time they send us an impossible assignment and we don’t have you guys here to help out.”

“Ah, you’ll come up with something, sir,” Sheppard grinned. “You got by without us up to now. And the war won’t last... _too_ much longer.”

“Dare we ask?” Kinch deadpanned.

“Don’t tempt me,” Hogan laughed, and the Lanteans joined him.

“Been a pleasure to serve under you, sir,” Sheppard stated, saluting.

Hogan returned the salute and shook Sheppard’s hand. “Call me as soon as you get home, would you, Sheppard? I’ll always wonder if you made it.”

“Yes, sir. That’s a promise.”

After another round of farewells, Team Sheppard went back down into the tunnel and up into the tent, then took a last look at Stalag 13 before climbing into the Jumper. McKay sighed happily as he settled into the co-pilot’s seat. “I am _so_ looking forward to edible food.”

“Will Col. Hogan be alive in 2009?” Teyla wondered.

“Actually, he will,” Sheppard replied. “He’s a general. And I _think_ he lives in Colorado Springs.”

“Huh,” said Ronon. “So they survive the war.”

“Yeah, they do. Dunno what happens to the rest of the team after that, though. Be kind of surprised if any of them are still around, but you never know.”

And with that, Sheppard cloaked the Jumper and took off for Colorado.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Barracks 2, LeBeau busied himself with putting together a hearty beef stew as Kinch and Hogan played chess and Carter and Newkirk dozed in the post-mission quiet.

“What was it like, Kinch, flying that thing?” Hogan finally asked.

“Pretty weird,” Kinch confessed. “Nothing like you’d expect an alien ship to be like. And I don’t know how the neural interface thingy works, but it’s kind of unnerving to think a command and have the machine respond without you even _saying_ anything. Think I’ll be glad to get back to B-17s, where I know what everything does.”

Hogan snorted in agreement.

“I wish we could have kept the subspace radios,” LeBeau remarked.

“Wouldn’t have done us much good,” Hogan noted. “If the Gestapo’s in camp, we can’t get out anyway, and London doesn’t have a subspace receiver.”

The conversation paused while Kinch considered his next move. Then he said, “So, Colonel... anything you wish you’d asked?”

Hogan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. What could Sheppard and his team have told them that he wanted to know and couldn’t deduce from the hints that they’d dropped? It was obvious that the Allies had won, and Sheppard implied that he himself would still be alive when the Puddle Jumper returned to its right time, but beyond that... did he even _want_ to know who lived and who died, where McKay and Zelenka’s technology came from, what an international team was doing on another planet and how they got there? Would he have been able to live with the answers if they were bad?

“No,” he replied as he made his next move. “Check.”

* * *

“General Landry to the Puddle Jumper storage area!”

Maj. Gen. Hank Landry frowned at his watch as he turned around and retraced his steps as requested. Team Sheppard hadn’t been gone five minutes. Had something gone wrong?

By the time Landry got to the Jumper storage area, he could hear McKay haranguing some of the junior scientists about the terrible time he’d had thanks to _their_ incompetence, despite Zelenka’s occasional reminder that if anyone deserved blame, it was Dr. Lee, and Teyla had apparently dispatched some airmen to bring the team something from the mess. It took a moment for Landry to catch Sheppard’s attention.

“Sheppard? What’s going on?”

“We’re back, sir,” Sheppard replied, saluting.

“I was expecting you to be gone longer. What happened?”

“Oh, not much. Scared a few Indians, spent two weeks at Stalag 13....”

Landry stared. “ _The_ Stalag 13?”

“Personal guests of Papa Bear himself,” Sheppard nodded. “And that reminds me.” He scanned the small crowd and found the man he was looking for. “Harriman. See if you can find me a phone number for General Hogan.”


	9. Epilogue

Gen. Landry stopped cold in the middle of the hall. “You want permission to take a _Wraith_ off-base?!” he asked incredulously.

“Gen. Hogan wants to meet him,” Sheppard explained, gesturing toward Todd, who had been sent in by Atlantis the day before and was going over flight data with McKay and Zelenka in the lab Landry and Sheppard had just passed. At Landry’s skeptical look, Sheppard added, “I offered to bring the general here, but he said he’s laid up with gout or something. I know it’s a risk, but....”

Landry sighed. As a career Air Force man, he knew better than to refuse Gen. Hogan. “Keep your guns on him at all times.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Sheppard replied and went to find Ronon and Teyla.

Half an hour later, the three Lanteans greeted McKay and a heavily disguised Todd outside the elevator on the ground floor of the SGC. “Looks good on you,” Sheppard deadpanned, taking in Todd’s black hooded sweatshirt and mirrored sunglasses that hid his white hair, pale green skin, and reptilian eyes.

“I still do not understand where we are going,” the Wraith stated, refusing to snark back.

“Friend of ours wants to meet you. Turns out we have a mutual acquaintance who’s a lot like you, only Hogan couldn’t quite picture what we were trying to describe.”

“Ah.” Todd inclined his head, and his flanged voice sounded almost happy as he continued, “For my part, I am most curious to see more of your planet than I have previously been allowed.”

“Thought you got to see the Bay when we were here last,” Ronon frowned.

“I saw only the Golden Gate Bridge, and only from a great distance,” Todd reminded him. “That was scarcely more than I ever see of New Lantea. A visit on the mainland, however brief, will give me great pleasure.”

“We’re not doing this for you,” Sheppard stated.

Todd shrugged and said nothing.

“Actually, I’m kinda glad we’re doing this now,” McKay said as they headed toward the front gate. “Lee gets back from Area 51 this afternoon, and I want to be there when Zelenka tells him what happened. Oh, hey, you know those guards who were supposed to go to Norway? Turns out their train was bombed outside Münster. Grimsel and Wolfschmidt made it out of the train alive, but then their boat was sunk halfway across the North Sea. No survivors.”

“Good,” said Ronon.

“How did you learn this?” Teyla wondered.

McKay looked a bit sheepish. “I looked them up on one of those genealogical research websites.”

“Find out what happened to Pungenhorst?” Sheppard asked.

“Yeah. Apparently either Carson or an influx of casualties managed to confuse the doctors at the rest camp, or else they were just plain incompetent. Pungenhorst was diagnosed with double pneumonia, but not until two days later--which, as it happens, was Simchat Torah. Lingered until December 11, which in 1944 was the first day of Hanukkah. Died precisely at sunset. The story goes that he was delirious at the end and screamed something about the Jews coming to take his soul.” McKay smirked. “Zelenka practically crowed when he found out.”

Sheppard laughed. “Poetic justice!”

Teyla frowned. “Did they not have antibiotics?”

“Only penicillin.” McKay’s smirk grew into a devious grin. “And that doesn’t kill the bacteria that would be likely to have caused his pneumonia, and it wouldn’t do anything at all if the infection were viral, which Carson said it probably was.”

“Excellent,” Ronon stated with a satisfied smile.

Todd didn’t even try to suppress a chuckle.

After another half hour, a black Crown Victoria pulled up outside a modest house in a Colorado Springs suburb favored by retirees, and Sheppard, his team, and their ‘guest’ piled out. Teyla and McKay flanked Todd, while Sheppard led the way to the front door and Ronon covered their rear. Todd, for his part, seemed to be quietly enjoying himself, though his almost inscrutable face was rendered completely inscrutable by his shades.

Sheppard rang the doorbell and turned back to Todd. “Remember, don’t speak unless spoken to, and if you try _anything_....”

Todd nodded once in silent understanding.

The unease Sheppard usually felt around Todd suddenly trebled. He locked eyes with Teyla, but before he could voice his question, the door opened behind him. A wave of Chanel No. 5 hit his nose at the same time a delighted gasp reached his ears:

“ _Sheppard_ , darling! How marvelous to see you, all of you! It has been too many years!”

Ignoring Todd’s sharp-toothed grin at his discomfort, Sheppard took a deep breath and pasted on a smile as he turned around. “Hello, Marya.”


End file.
